Hello brothers and sisters.

Today I want to ask you a question: How does the book of Job end?

If you’re reading a standard English Bible, the answer is simple and somewhat anticlimactic:

Job 42:17 (NRSV): “And Job died, old and full of days.”

That’s it. Job is restored, blessed with a new family, lives 140 more years, sees four generations of descendants, and then dies at a ripe old age. The end.

It’s a good enough ending. Satisfying in its simplicity. Job’s vindication is complete, his suffering has been redeemed, and he dies in peace.

In Part 1, we explored how the Greek Septuagint preserves a fascinating paradox in Job 1-2: Satan predicts Job will “bless” God rather than “curse” Him. The literal rendering of the Hebrew euphemism opened up profound insights about authentic worship versus empty religion.

But what if I told you there’s another ending to Job? One that doesn’t appear in any Hebrew manuscript, but has been hiding in plain sight in Christian Bibles for over two thousand years?

An ending that includes:

A detailed genealogy tracing Job back to Abraham
Identification of Job as Jobab, one of the kings of Edom mentioned in Genesis 36
Information about Job’s wife (an Arabian woman) and his son Ennon
The revelation that Job’s three friends were themselves kings
And most stunningly, an explicit promise of bodily resurrection

This ending exists. It’s in the Septuagint—the Greek translation of the Old Testament that was the Bible of the early Church, the text the apostles quoted, and the Scripture the Church Fathers preached from for centuries.

And it radically changes how we understand Job’s place in biblical history and God’s redemptive plan.

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The Septuagint’s Epilogue: Job 42:17b-e

Let me show you what the Septuagint adds after “Job died, old and full of days.”

I’ll give you both the older Brenton translation and the modern scholarly N.E.T.S. translation so you can see the material clearly.

Job 42:17b — The Resurrection Promise

Brenton:

“and it is written that he will rise again with those whom the Lord raises up.”

NETS:

“It is written, however, that he will rise again with those whom the Lord will raise.”

Right there, at the very end of the book, is a promise of resurrection.

Not implied. Not symbolic. Not “maybe if you squint and read it allegorically.”

Explicit. Direct. Clear.

Job will rise again.

Job 42:17c — The Historical Identification

Brenton:

“This man is described in the Syriac book as living in the land of Ausis, on the borders of Idumea and Arabia: and his name before was Jobab;”

NETS:

“This one is explained from the Syriac book as living in the land of Ausis on the borders of Idoumaia and Arabia. His former name was Iobab,”

The text tells us:

Job lived in Ausis (= Uz in the Hebrew)
On the borders of Edom and Arabia
His original name was Jobab
This information comes from “the Syriac book”

Job 42:17d — The Genealogy

Brenton:

“and having taken an Arabian wife, he begot a son whose name was Ennon. And he himself was the son of his father Zare, one of the sons of Esau, and of his mother Bosorrha, so that he was the fifth from Abraam.”

NETS:

“but after taking an Arabian woman as wife, he fathered a son by the name of Ennon. Now, his father was Zara from the descendants of Esau, and his mother was Bosorra, making him the fifth in descent from Abraam.”

Here we get a complete family tree:

Job’s father: Zare (= Zerah)
Job’s mother: Bosorrha (= Bozrah, a place name that became a personal name)
Job’s ancestry: descended from Esau (Jacob’s brother)
Job’s wife: An Arabian woman
Job’s son: Ennon
Five generations from Abraham: Abraham → Isaac → Esau → Zerah → Job

Job 42:17e — The Kings and Job’s Friends

Brenton:

“And these were the kings who reigned in Edom, which country he also ruled over: first, Balac, the son of Beor, and the name of his city was Dennaba: but after Balac, Jobab, who is called Job, and after him Asom, who was governor out of the country of Thaeman: and after him Adad, the son of Barad, who destroyed Madiam in the plain of Moab; and the name of his city was Gethaim.”

NETS:

“Now, these are the kings who ruled in Edom, over which land he too exercised dominion: first Balak, son of Beor, and the name of his city was Dennaba; after Balak came Iobab, the one called Iob; after him came Asom, the ruler from the region of Thaiman; after him came Adad, son of Barad, who destroyed Madiam in the plain of Moab, and the name of his city was Gethaim;”

Then the friends:

Brenton:

“And his friends that came to him were Eliphaz, of the children of Esau, king of the Thaemanites, Baldad sovereign of the Saucheans, Sophar king of the Minaeans.”

NETS:

“and the friends who came to him were: Eliphaz of the children of Esau, king of the Thaimanites; Baldad, the tyrant of the Sauchites; Sophar, king of the Minaiites.”

So not only was Job himself a king, his three friends were also kings. Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar weren’t just wealthy counselors. They were monarchs who came to sit with their fellow king in his suffering.

Where Did This Material Come From?

This is the question that has fascinated and puzzled scholars for centuries.

These verses don’t exist in the Hebrew Masoretic Text. They don’t appear in the Dead Sea Scrolls fragments of Job. They’re unique to the Greek Septuagint tradition.

So where did they come from?

The Scholarly Consensus

Most modern scholars argue that this epilogue is a later addition to the Septuagint text. They say it was probably added sometime in the 2nd or 1st century B.C. by a scribe or editor who wanted to:

Identify Job with a known biblical figure (Jobab from Genesis 36)
Place Job in a clear historical timeframe (contemporary with the early Edomite kings)
Add an explicit resurrection promise (reflecting developing Jewish theology of the period)
Connect Job’s story to the broader narrative of Genesis

They point out that:

The reference to “the Syriac book” suggests this material came from outside the Hebrew textual tradition
The resurrection language reflects theology that became more explicit in the 2nd century B.C.
The attempt to historicize Job fits patterns in other Second Temple Jewish literature
The genealogical details seem to be drawn from Genesis 36 and embellished

In other words, the scholarly view is that this is a late addition that tells us more about how Second Temple Jews understood Job than about Job himself.

A Different Perspective

But here’s what I believe, and what many in the Orthodox Christian tradition believe: this material preserves an authentic tradition that was lost in the Hebrew textual stream but preserved in the Greek.

Let me be clear: I’m not claiming this based on academic consensus. I’m stating this as a matter of faith and theological conviction about the authority of the Septuagint.

Here’s my reasoning:

First, the Septuagint was the Bible of the early Church. The apostles quoted it. The Church Fathers used it. The New Testament writers drew from it. For the first few centuries of Christianity, the Greek Old Testament was the Old Testament.

If this epilogue were a spurious late addition with no historical basis, would the early Church— which was extraordinarily careful about maintaining apostolic tradition —have accepted it so readily?

Second, the reference to “the Syriac book” suggests this material came from a now-lost Semitic source. It wasn’t invented out of whole cloth by a Greek scribe. It was drawn from an earlier tradition—possibly Aramaic, possibly an old Hebrew text that didn’t survive in the Masoretic stream.

The Syriac/Aramaic tradition is ancient. It predates the Greek Septuagint. If the Septuagint translators or later editors had access to Aramaic/Syriac sources about Job, those sources could easily have been as old or older than the oldest Hebrew manuscripts we now possess (ie: the Dead Sea Scrolls).

Third, resurrection theology is not a late development. This is critical.

Scholars often point to the resurrection promise in Job 42:17b and say, “See? This must be from the 2nd century B.C., when resurrection theology was becoming more explicit in Judaism.”

But that assumes resurrection theology didn’t exist before then. And that’s simply not true.

Abraham believed God could raise Isaac from the dead (Hebrews 11:17-19). David spoke of not being abandoned to Sheol (Psalm 16:10). Isaiah prophesied that the dead would live and bodies would rise (Isaiah 26:19). Daniel also explicitly mentions resurrection (Daniel 12:2), among many other examples, all of which predate the 2nd century B.C. by a wide margin, even if we approach it from the most cynical view of the dating of the Hebrew Scriptures.

And Jesus Himself pointed out that the hope of resurrection goes all the way back to Exodus. When God called Himself “the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob,” He was declaring Himself “the God of the living, not the dead” (Matthew 22:32; Exodus 3:6).

Resurrection hope is not a late Jewish innovation. It’s woven throughout Scripture from very early on.

So when the Septuagint epilogue says Job “will rise again with those whom the Lord raises up,” I don’t see that as evidence of late authorship. I see it as evidence of authentic ancient theology being preserved in the Greek tradition.

Fourth, the genealogical details fit perfectly with Genesis 36. They’re not invented. They’re drawn from canonical Scripture and applied to Job in a way that makes historical sense.

If this were pure fabrication, why choose Jobab? Why not identify Job with a more famous figure? Why make him the fifth from Abraham rather than, say, a contemporary of Moses or David?

The specificity and restraint of the claims suggest authentic tradition, not pious invention.

Job as Jobab: The Genesis 36 Connection

Let’s look at the Genesis passage that the Septuagint epilogue draws from:

Genesis 36:33-34 (NRSV): “Bela died, and Jobab son of Zerah of Bozrah succeeded him as king. Jobab died, and Husham of the land of the Temanites succeeded him as king.”

Compare that to what the Septuagint epilogue says:

Job’s father: Zare (Zerah) ✓
Job’s mother: Bosorrha (Bozrah) ✓
Job succeeded Balac (Bela) as king ✓
Job was succeeded by Asom (Husham) from Thaiman (Teman) ✓

The details match perfectly.

Now, Genesis 36 is the chapter that lists the descendants of Esau and the early kings of Edom. It’s genealogical material that most readers skim over. But embedded in that list is Jobab son of Zerah of Bozrah, who reigned as king in Edom.

The Septuagint epilogue identifies this Jobab with Job.

Does This Identification Make Sense?

Let’s think about what we know about Job from the book itself:

He lived in Uz — Septuagint says Ausis, on the borders of Edom and Arabia. Edom is Esau’s territory. This fits.
He was extremely wealthy — He owned 7,000 sheep, 3,000 camels, 500 yoke of oxen, 500 donkeys, and had a large household. This is royal-level wealth, especially for the time period he’s being placed in.
His three friends were powerful leaders — Eliphaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite, Zophar the Naamathite. These aren’t peasants. They’re men of standing. If they were fellow kings, that would explain their confidence in debating with Job.
Job offered sacrifices — In the patriarchal period, before the Levitical priesthood, the head of the household or the king served as priest. Job’s priestly role fits a royal context.
The book feels ancient — No mention of Moses, the Exodus, the Law, or Israel. It has a patriarchal flavor. If Job was contemporary with the early Edomite kings (Genesis 36), he would have lived in the time after Jacob but before Moses—exactly the era the book seems to reflect.
Job’s age — After his restoration, Job lived 140 more years and died “old and full of days.” This kind of lifespan fits the patriarchal period (Abraham lived 175 years; Isaac lived 180 years).

So the identification of Job with Jobab, king of Edom, fifth generation from Abraham, makes a great deal of historical and textual sense.

What About the Name Change?

The Septuagint says Job’s “former name was Jobab” (Iobab).

In Hebrew, both names are spelled similarly:

אִיּוֹב (‘Iyyov) = Job
יוֹבָב (Yovav) = Jobab

They share the same root letters. A name change or variant spelling between these two would be quite natural.

We see name changes throughout Genesis: Abram becomes Abraham, Sarai becomes Sarah, Jacob becomes Israel. If Jobab’s name became Job (perhaps after his trial?), it would fit the biblical pattern.

The Five Generations from Abraham

The Septuagint epilogue tells us Job was “the fifth from Abraham.”

Let’s trace that lineage:

Abraham (born c. 2166 B.C.)
Isaac (born c. 2066 B.C.)
Esau (born c. 2006 B.C.)
Zerah (Esau’s son)
Job/Jobab (Zerah’s son)

If Job was born around 1900-1850 B.C., that would place him:

After the patriarchs but before Moses
Contemporary with Joseph in Egypt
During the period when the Edomite kings listed in Genesis 36 were reigning

This timeline fits everything we know about Job’s world. It explains:

Why there’s no reference to the Law of Moses (it hadn’t been given yet)
Why Job offers sacrifices himself (there was no Levitical priesthood yet)
Why the book feels so ancient (it describes a world before Israel became a nation)
Why Job’s friends can travel freely to visit him (this is before the later hostility between Edom and Israel)

The Resurrection Promise: “He Will Rise Again”

Now we come to the most theologically significant part of the epilogue:

“It is written that he will rise again with those whom the Lord raises up.”

This is an explicit, unambiguous promise of bodily resurrection.

Not “his memory will live on.”
Not “his soul will rest in peace.”
Not “he will live forever in the hearts of those who remember him.”

He will rise again.

How Does This Relate to Job 19:25-27?

Earlier in the book, Job makes his famous declaration:

Job 19:25-27 (NRSV):

“For I know that my Redeemer lives, and that at the last he will stand upon the earth; and after my skin has been thus destroyed, then in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see on my side, and my eyes shall behold, and not another.”

This passage has been understood by Christians for two millennia as a prophecy of resurrection. Job declares that even after his body is destroyed, he will see God in his flesh, which very clearly describes bodily resurrection.

But here’s the fascinating thing: the Septuagint’s translation of Job 19:25-27 is much less clear about bodily resurrection than the Hebrew text.

We’ll examine Job 19 in detail in Part 3 of this series, but for now, notice this: the Septuagint’s version of Job 19 doesn’t emphasize bodily resurrection the way the Hebrew does. It’s more focused on present vindication.

Yet the Septuagint’s epilogue explicitly promises resurrection.

So the Greek tradition gives with one hand what it takes (or obscures) with the other. The climactic declaration of Job 19 is muted, but the final word of the book is crystal clear.

Job will rise again.

Why Is This Promise Here?

I believe this epilogue does exactly what Scripture often does: it makes explicit what was implicit.

The entire arc of Job’s story points toward resurrection:

Job loses everything, including his health, but he is restored
Job’s children die, but he is given new children (not replacements, but the promise continues)
Job descends to the ash heap, sitting among the dead, but he is raised up
Job cries out, “My Redeemer lives!” and declares he will see God in his flesh

The pattern of death and resurrection runs through the entire book.

The epilogue simply names what the story has been showing us all along: Job’s suffering and vindication is a picture of death and resurrection.

“With Those Whom the Lord Raises Up”

Notice the epilogue doesn’t just say Job will rise. It says he will rise “with those whom the Lord raises up.”

Job is not unique in this. He’s not the only one who will experience resurrection.

He will rise together with others. With all those whom the Lord raises.

This is a corporate resurrection. A general resurrection. The resurrection of the righteous at the last day that Daniel prophesies (Daniel 12:2), that Jesus teaches (John 5:28-29), that Paul proclaims (1 Corinthians 15:20-23).

Job’s individual vindication points to a greater, final vindication of all God’s people.

The Friends as Kings

One last detail that’s easy to overlook: Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar were kings.

Job 42:17e (NETS):

“the friends who came to him were: Eliphaz of the children of Esau, king of the Thaimanites; Baldad, the tyrant of the Sauchites; Sophar, king of the Minaiites.”

This reframes the entire dialogue section of the book.

These aren’t just wise counselors. These aren’t just wealthy friends.

They’re monarchs.

They have kingdoms to rule, people to govern, responsibilities to attend to. Yet when they hear of Job’s suffering, they come and sit with him for seven days in silence.

Three kings, sitting in the ash heap with a suffering king.

And when they speak, they speak with the authority and confidence of men accustomed to power. They’re not tentative. They’re not deferential. They state their theological positions with royal certainty.

This also explains why Elihu, the young man who speaks in chapters 32-37, defers to them and waits until they’re finished. He’s waiting for kings to speak first.

It explains why Job engages them so forcefully. He’s not a subject being lectured by his betters. He’s a fellow king defending his innocence before his peers.

And it makes God’s rebuke of them (Job 42:7-8) even more pointed. These are powerful men, accustomed to being right, accustomed to having the final word.

But God tells them: “You have not spoken of me what is right, as my servant Job has.”

Even kings must humble themselves before the truth. Even monarchs must repent.

Early Christian Reception

How did the early Church receive this epilogue?

With joy, reverence, and theological insight.

Origen (c. 185-254 A.D.)

Origen, one of the greatest biblical scholars of the early Church, knew both the Hebrew text and the Greek Septuagint. He was aware that the epilogue existed only in the Greek.

But he didn’t dismiss it as a later addition. He treated it as authoritative Scripture and used the resurrection promise to defend the doctrine of bodily resurrection against those who denied it.

For Origen, the fact that Job “will rise again with those whom the Lord raises up” was proof that the hope of resurrection was ancient—not a late innovation, but part of God’s plan from the beginning.

John Chrysostom (c. 349-407 A.D.)

Chrysostom, preaching in Greek to Greek-speaking congregations, used the epilogue extensively. He saw Job as a type of Christ:

Job the king who suffered
Job the righteous man who was vindicated
Job who died and will rise again

For Chrysostom, the promise “he will rise again” wasn’t just about Job’s individual resurrection. It was about the resurrection of all who belong to Christ.

Job rises with those whom the Lord raises. And we, through Christ, are among those whom the Lord will raise.

The Broader Tradition

The Septuagint epilogue was included in:

The Old Latin translations (before Jerome’s Vulgate)
Most early Christian Bible manuscripts
The liturgical readings of the Church
Patristic commentaries and homilies

It wasn’t marginalized or questioned. It was received as part of the inspired Scripture.

Only later, when Western Christianity began to prioritize the Hebrew Masoretic Text over the Greek Septuagint (particularly after the Reformation), did this epilogue begin to disappear from most Bibles.

But for Orthodox Christians, and for anyone who takes the Septuagint seriously as an inspired witness to God’s Word, this epilogue is Scripture.

What This Means for Us

So what do we do with all this?

Do we accept the Septuagint’s epilogue as canonical? Do we treat it as a helpful historical note but not binding? Do we ignore it altogether because it’s not in the Hebrew?

Here’s where I land, and I invite you to wrestle with it yourself:

I believe the Septuagint epilogue preserves authentic tradition about Job that was lost in the Hebrew textual stream.

I believe Job was Jobab, the fifth from Abraham, descended from Esau, who reigned as a king in Edom during the patriarchal period.

I believe his friends were fellow kings who came to mourn with him.

And I believe the promise “he will rise again with those whom the Lord raises up” is not a late addition but an authentic witness to the resurrection hope that has been part of God’s revelation from the very beginning.

I hold this position not because I can prove it archaeologically or textually. I hold it because:

The Septuagint was the Bible of the early Church, and the Church received this epilogue as Scripture.
The details fit too well with Genesis 36 to be pure fabrication.
Resurrection theology is ancient, not a late development.
The pattern of death and resurrection runs through Job’s entire story; the epilogue simply names what the book has been showing us.

You may disagree. That’s okay. This isn’t a salvation issue. But I would encourage you to take the Septuagint seriously. Not as a curiosity or a secondary source, but as an inspired witness to God’s Word that sometimes preserves truths the Hebrew tradition lost.

Job’s Story Doesn’t End with Death

Here’s the takeaway.

In the Hebrew Bible, Job’s story ends with death: “And Job died, old and full of days.”

That’s a good ending. Peaceful. Complete.

But in the Septuagint, Job’s story doesn’t end with death.

It ends with a promise: “It is written that he will rise again.”

And that changes everything.

Because if Job rises, then Job’s vindication isn’t complete when he dies. It’s only complete when he’s raised from the dead.

His restoration— his family, his wealth, his honor —all of that is wonderful. But it’s not the final word.

The final word is resurrection.

The final word is that death doesn’t win.

The final word is that the Redeemer lives, and because He lives, Job will live.

And so will we.

“He will rise again with those whom the Lord raises up.”

That’s not just Job’s hope. That’s our hope.

Job’s story is our story. Suffering, loss, vindication, restoration. And ultimately, resurrection.

Death is not the end. For Job. For us.

The Septuagint’s epilogue doesn’t just tell us historical details about Job. It tells us the theological truth that the whole book has been pointing toward:

God is the God of the living. And those who trust in Him will rise.

Discussion Questions:

Before reading this post, were you aware of the Septuagint’s epilogue to Job? How does this additional material change your understanding of the book?
What’s your initial reaction to the claim that Job was Jobab, one of the kings of Edom from Genesis 36? Does this identification help or hinder your reading of the book?
The Septuagint epilogue explicitly promises that Job “will rise again with those whom the Lord raises up.” How does this resurrection promise affect your understanding of the entire book of Job?
Do you think resurrection theology is a late development in Judaism (2nd century B.C.), or do you see evidence of resurrection hope throughout the Old Testament from much earlier? What passages support your view?
How do you approach textual traditions that exist in one stream (like the Septuagint) but not in another (like the Hebrew)? Do you accept both as inspired, or prioritize one over the other?

If you’ve found this helpful or insightful, please share it with a friend who loves Scripture as much as you do.

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Coming Up Next

In Part 3, we’ll dive deep into one of the most famous passages in all of Scripture: Job 19:25-27, where Job declares, “I know that my Redeemer lives.”

But here’s the fascinating tension: while the Septuagint’s epilogue explicitly promises resurrection, the Septuagint’s translation of Job 19 is actually much less clear about bodily resurrection than the Hebrew text.

The Hebrew says Job will see God “in my flesh.” The Greek focuses more on present vindication than future resurrection.

So what’s going on? How do we reconcile these two readings? And what do both traditions teach us about the nature of resurrection hope?

We’ll explore all of that in the next installment.

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