Job 13:14–28

The discourse may be divided into three main parts. (1) He answers his friends (Job 12:1 — 13:13). (2) He challenges God (Job 13:14-28). (3) A hope of immortality amid despair (Job 14).

Verses 14-28: here his words are addressed to God Himself. He dares to approach Him. He knows the greatness and awesomeness of God. He is perhaps also aware that he has not honoured Him as he should have done. So he says — and this would be the meaning of this difficult verse — "Come what may, I take my life in my hand and risk it."

He asks them, "Why should I take my flesh in my teeth and put my life in my hand?" Did his friends stop to think why he would open himself up to their ridicule and criticism like this? Was there not a reason for it?

Now here I am, ready to bear whatever God sends. I feel the awfulness of it, and the terrors of God are on my soul; but here I am; let Him do as seems good in His sight.

On the one hand, there was a remarkable spirit of faith. It led him to take everything that had happened from His hand. He did not concern himself with those who brought the disasters, which had stopped short of his death. He had wanted to die. If God should grant that wish and kill him, he would not lose confidence but would still trust in Him. This indeed was excellent. But at the same time Job revealed his very weak spot in his determination to "maintain," or "defend," his own ways before Him. So we see that in a true saint very real faith in God may exist, while a very determined measure of self-esteem still spoils it. This is what gives such great value to this remarkable book, since the flesh in us who are saints today is just the same as it was in Job some four thousand years ago.

So the frail creature takes his life in his hand and stands before his Maker. God can only strike dead a man who has no hope, but Job must speak out and defend his ways as upright before God. This is the thought which seems most in accord with what goes before. On the other hand, many — perhaps most — prefer the wording of the Authorized Version: "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him." Read that way, it would be a gleam of light in the middle of awful darkness, and it seems to agree with what follows. Aware of his own uprightness, Job seems to think there may be hope. Either way, he must speak.

"Surely I would speak to the Almighty, and I desire to reason with God." That is just what he was doing. But how? He did not know. The New Testament did not exist yet. There was no one to stand between God and man, as Christ does. So he did not know how to get at Him. If he could only find Him; if he could only be before Him! He knew very well what he would find there — a faithful God. But somehow there were difficulties and riddles between God and his soul that he could not understand.

How these words, beautiful in their very anguish, cry aloud for the blessed Mediator, the one who stands between God and man! Blessed be God, we can "draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." Job could only grope in darkness.

Curse God! That would have meant giving up his God. Could he do that? Never. He could lose everything, but not his God. Many things may have seemed necessary to him in the past. But he had now reached this point: he could do without everything except God. God alone was necessary to Job. That is why he later cried out, in his agony and earnestness of soul, "Though He slay me yet will I trust in Him."

Notice this. Though Job gives way to his feelings in this passionate outburst, he did not renounce God, and there is not one word of rebellion against Him. All through his answer to his friends' arguments he does not lose sight of God. Again and again he expresses confidence in the One he cannot see, as in that unmatched saying, "Though He slay me, yet will I trust" (13:15).

He asks them, "Why do I take my flesh in my teeth, and put my life in my hands?" (v.14). Did his friends ever ask why he would open himself up like this to their ridicule and criticism? Was there not a reason for this? In fact, he states firmly that even if God killed him, he would still trust Him. Did his trust in God show that he was guilty of hidden sin? No! he says, "I will defend my own ways, before Him" (v.15).

How little progress a soul makes while it is busy justifying itself! … He is only judging himself the way a man would… He sees no purpose of grace in God's ways with him. Yet his soul is clearly gaining ground, for he cries out, "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him," and a gleam of hope breaks in on his path.

So the frail creature takes his life in his hand and stands before his Maker. All God can do is strike dead a man who has no hope. But Job must speak out and defend his ways as upright before God. That reading seems to fit best with what comes before. On the other hand, many — perhaps most — prefer the older King James wording: "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him." Read that way, the line is a gleam of light in the middle of awful darkness, and it seems to agree with what follows.

Job has confessed and Jehovah has forgiven. He forgets all Job's sinful utterances; He remembers them no more. But in infinite grace He picks out the few sentences scattered through Job's speeches where he honoured the Lord and expressed trust in Him. With these He is well pleased. It must have been sweet music in Jehovah's ear when Job said, "Though He slay me yet will I trust."

Even Job said, "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him." But we are permitted to go a step further. We know that whatever God brings on the believer is not only the product of divine goodness. It is the deliberate planning of divine love. However severe the trial, however deep the pain, however hard the testing, it only convinces us more of that clear warm love that makes no mistakes.

Would God desert him? No! God would be his salvation. He was sure of this. It is true that appearances did not persuade his friends. If a man turned away from God by sinning, he would not have such confidence in God as Job had, "for a hypocrite could not come before Him" (v.16). So Job urges his friends (or critics) to listen closely to what he says. He had not been careless in preparing his case for judgment. He was certain his case deserved careful consideration, for he says, "I know I shall be vindicated" (v.18).

Look, He will slay me, yet will I trust Him; but my ways to His face I will argue. This also will be my salvation, that no polluted one shall come before Him... Look now, I have ordered my case, I know that I shall be justified.

There was a far deeper faith in Job than in all the other three, or in any of them. He did not mean, "though I am lost." Oh no, he had no idea of that. "Though He slay me" — he knew that the best thing was not life on the earth; he is learning that; the best thing is the life to come. There it would be all according to God; but here it is in confusion, and in every kind of moral anomaly. "He also shall be my salvation" — he has no doubt about that — "for a hypocrite shall not come before him." He was very far from that.

On the one hand, there was a remarkable spirit of faith, which led him to take all that had happened from His hand... He had wanted to die. If God should answer that wish and slay him, he would not lose confidence but would still trust in Him. This was excellent. But at the same time Job revealed his very weak spot: he was determined to "maintain," or "defend" his own ways before Him. So we see that in a true saint very real faith in God may exist, and yet a very determined measure of self-esteem may spoil it.

Job was upright, but he began to make this his righteousness. That clearly proves that he had never really been in the presence of God. The result was this. He reasoned better than his friends, and he showed a heart that felt far more than they did what God is. Yet he charged God with injustice, and with a desire to harass him without cause (see Job 19; 23:3, 13; 13:15-18; 16:12)... God was bringing him to say, "Now my eye sees You, and I abhor myself."

So the frail creature takes his life in his hand and stands before his Maker. God can only strike dead a man who has no hope, but Job must speak out and defend his ways as upright before God. This is the thought that seems to fit best with what goes before. On the other hand, many, perhaps most, prefer the reading of our Authorized Version: "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him." Read that way, it is a gleam of light in the middle of awful darkness, and it seems to agree with what follows. Sure of his own uprightness, Job seems to think there may be hope. At any rate, he must speak.

What he wanted was truth for his mind and healing for his body. They were only men who "whitewash with lies," and "worthless physicians." He advised them to keep quiet and listen to what he had to say, and he went on like this up to verse 13. He felt they had talked as though they were speaking for God, and in doing so had misrepresented Him. In this, no doubt, Job judged rightly.

What kind of physicians were they to treat a case like this? They have decided what his disease is, and misrepresent his symptoms to confirm their diagnosis! And they bring in their theory that God always punishes sin in this life to prove that Job is a sinner! Job turns from them in disgust... so he turns from man's unfair guesses to God.

So Job urges his friends (or critics) to listen carefully to what he says. He had not been careless in preparing his case for judgment. He was certain his case deserved careful consideration... No doubt he would be cleared in the eyes of men in the end. But in the eyes of God it is a different matter, as Job admits in chapter 42:5-6, once God had fully weighed his case.

The fact that no hypocrite, no one defiled, comes into His presence was a promise of salvation to him, not a cause of alarm. He presses his demand with earnest force. He is sure of his innocence, and he does not refuse to die if he deserves it.

In the agony he was going through, it was a relief to him to speak out. All he wanted was to be put right if he was wrong.

On the one hand, there was a remarkable spirit of faith, which led him to take all that had happened from His hand... He had wanted to die, and if God granted that and killed him, he would not lose confidence but would still trust Him. This was excellent. But at the same time Job showed his very weak spot: he was determined to "maintain," or "defend," his own ways before Him. So we see that in a true believer very real faith in God can exist, and yet be spoiled by a very determined measure of self-esteem.

He would hold fast to his integrity before Him, whatever they said, and he knew God would clear him. He asked only for relief from the suffering, and that the dread of Him would not overwhelm him. He wanted to find out all that was wrong in himself. He begged to know why he was blown about like a leaf or dry straw. He did not yet know the grace that was giving him self-judgment.

So Job urges his friends (or critics) to listen closely to what he says. He had not been careless in preparing his case for judgment. He was certain it deserved careful consideration, for he says, "I know that I shall be in the right" (v.18). It was true that men would one day judge him to be in the right. But in the eyes of God it is a different matter, as Job admits in chapter 42:5-6, once God had fully weighed his case.

Next, Job charges his friends outright with being false witnesses for God. They took well-known truths that everyone accepted and used them to back up their charge that Job was wicked. What kind of doctors were these, to treat a case like this? They have already decided what his disease is, and they twist his symptoms to fit their diagnosis!

In verses 14-19, Job has God before his mind, not his friends. We can see two conflicting elements. On the one hand, there was a remarkable spirit of faith... This was excellent. But at the same time Job showed his very weak spot: he was determined to "maintain," or "defend," his own ways before Him. So we see that in a true believer very real faith in God may exist, and yet be spoiled by a very determined measure of self-esteem.

He would hold on to his integrity before Him, whatever they said, and he knew he would be justified. He asked only for relief from his suffering, and that the terror of God would not overwhelm him. He wanted to find out everything that was wrong in himself... He did not yet know the grace that was giving him this self-judgment.

Job was upright, but he began to make this his righteousness. That clearly proves he had never really been in the presence of God. The result was this: although he reasoned more correctly than his friends, and showed a heart that felt far more deeply than theirs what God is, he charged God with injustice and with wanting to harass him for no reason (see Job 19; 23:3, 13; 13:15-18; 16:12).

God allowed Satan to test Job. The test was not to find out whether Job's soul was saved and whether he stood righteous before God. It was to find out whether Job feared God only because of his prosperity and his material advantages — which Satan claimed were enough on their own to make a man godly.

When his friends slandered Job, he felt it very deeply. But for a long time he fought for his own reputation instead of committing his way to the Lord. When he finally did commit it, God soon brought out His righteousness as the light and His judgment as the noonday. As soon as he condemned himself and justified God, his righteousness became clear, and God Himself testified that at last he had spoken what was right.

He had not been careless in preparing his case for judgment. He was fully certain it deserved careful consideration, for he says, "I know I shall be vindicated" (v.18). No doubt he would be vindicated in the eyes of men in the end. But in the eyes of God it is a different matter, as Job admits in chapter 42:5-6, when God fully considered his case. Meanwhile he asks who could rightly contend with him, for his friends' contentions were empty. He felt it necessary to defend himself — or perish (v.19).

"Who is there who will contend with me? For then I would be silent and die." That is, in the agony he was going through, it was a relief to him to speak out. All he wanted was to be put right if he was wrong.

He calls attention to his demand earnestly and forcefully, assured of his innocence, and not refusing to die if he deserved it.

It was with God he wished to speak, not with such quacks as they, whose wisdom would be to keep quiet. He reckoned they had spoken wickedly and deceitfully for God, who had given them no such authority, and who would surely reprove them — as in fact He did. He would hold his integrity fast before Him, whatever they said, and he knew he would be justified... He did not yet know the grace that was giving him self-judgment.

"Moreover the LORD answered Job and said, Shall he who contends with the Almighty instruct Him?" He ought to be able to, if he judges God. This is exactly what fills Job with shame... Job had contended with the Almighty. "He who reproves God, let him answer it."... Job was brought completely down in his own opinion of himself, ashamed of having complained against God and His ways without understanding the least of them.

How different his words were when God spoke to him directly: "I lay my hand on my mouth" (ch.40:4) — that is, he kept quiet.

All he wanted was to be put right if he was wrong. He now says, "Only grant me two things, then I will not hide myself from your face. Withdraw your hand far from me" — the outward thing — "and let not dread of you terrify me" — the inward — "then call, and I will answer" — and so he did — "or let me speak, and you reply to me. How many are my iniquities and my sins?"

In this answer he turns, in effect, from his friends to God; but sadly, he finds no answer to his awful terror of doubt and darkness.

But how dare he speak before the One from whose presence he would instinctively flee? Let Him at least remove the awful dread that chills Job's heart, and relieve him of his pain, and he will answer Him or address Him. How these words, beautiful in their very anguish, cry aloud for the blessed Daysman, the Mediator! Thanks be to God, we can "with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." Job could only grope in darkness.

You see, Job could not answer God, and he is struggling under this. What does he say he wants? "There is no arbiter between us, who might lay his hand on us both." Oh, I have no arbiter! "Let Him take His rod away from me, and let not dread of Him terrify me." What Job says he did not have is exactly what we have now in Christ. Was Christ a terror in this world? The law was exactly that; there were thunderings and lightnings. Even Moses said, "I tremble with fear," and the people said, "Do not let God speak to us." The law struck with terror, but it produced no real change in man, and no confidence in God.

"Behold, I am toward God as you are; I too was pinched off from a piece of clay." This is exactly what Job had desired, and now beyond his expectation. When his friends had completely disappointed him, God supplies the help that was needed: patient consideration of the terribly trying circumstances, with jealousy for God's glory at the right moment. And it comes from the last quarter Job would have looked to for it. "Behold, no fear of me need terrify you." He had complained that God acted this way on his soul and body… "my pressure will not be heavy on you." It was God's hand that Job had so strongly pleaded against.

He asked only for a reprieve from suffering, and that His dread should not overwhelm him. He wanted to find out everything that was wrong in himself, and begged to know why he was driven back and forth like a leaf or dry stubble. He did not yet know the grace that was giving him self-judgment.

He asks, "Only two things do not do to me" (v.20). If so, then Job would not try to hide from God. First, "Withdraw your hand far from me." That is, do not keep up this trying affliction, which Job felt he could not stand. Second, "let not the dread of You make me afraid" (v.21). He did not want to be terrified by the contemplation of the glory of God.

He says now, "Only do not two things to me; then I will not hide myself from You. Withdraw your hand far from me" — the outward thing — "and let not dread of You" — the inward — "terrify me: then call, and I will answer" — and so he did — "or let me speak, and You answer me. How many are my iniquities and sins?"

Here we reach the part of his sufferings that was probably more intense than the physical side. One thing gave a sharpness to his grief: the sense that God's wrath was upon him, that the dreadful poison of His anger was consuming him. We know this was a mistake. God was chastening His poor servant in this way, and that was only another proof of His love. But he did not know it, and we should not be harsh with one who felt that the Lord was dealing bitterly with him.

Relieve me from the sufferings, withdraw your hand far from me, which rests upon me; and let not your terror make me afraid. Then call, and I will answer; or let me speak, and answer me (verses 20-22). Then once more the right note, the note he must sound to the full in his wretched misery — "How many are my iniquities and sins? Make me to know my transgression and my sins." But it lasted only a moment. He breaks out in fresh charges against God.

He asked only for a reprieve from suffering, and that His dread should not overwhelm him; he wished to find out all that was wrong in himself, and begged to know why he was driven to and fro like a leaf or dry stubble. He did not yet know the grace that was giving him self-judgment.

You see Job could not answer God, and he is struggling under this: what does he say he wants? "Neither is there any daysman between us that might lay his hand upon both." Oh, I have no daysman! "Let him take his rod away from me and let not his fear terrify me." What Job said he did not have is exactly what we have now in Christ. Was Christ a terror in this world?

He reminds Job of his own desire for such a person: "Oh that someone would plead for a man with God, as a man pleads for his neighbour" (Job 16:21). To this desire Elihu now replies: "I am here in God's place, just as you wished; I also am formed out of clay. My terror will not make you afraid, and my hand will not be heavy on you" (Job 33:6-7).

It was quite true that Job hid no such wickedness as his friends hinted at. But it was completely false to think God had no reason. He had the wisest reasons for withering self in Job's eyes.

He asks, "Only do not do two things to me" (v.20). If so, then Job would not try to hide from God. First, "Withdraw your hand far from me." That is, do not go on with this affliction, which Job felt he could not bear. Second, "let not the dread of You make me afraid" (v.21). He did not want the thought of God's glory to terrify him.

"Withdraw your hand far from me" — that is the outward thing. "And let not your dread" — the inward — "make me afraid." "Then call, and I will answer" — and so he did — "or let me speak, and answer me."

Was there not a possibility of some communication with God? Either let God call him and let Job answer, or let Job speak and God respond to him (v.22).

Relieve me from the sufferings. Withdraw Your hand, which rests on me, and keep it far away. And let not Your terror make me afraid. Then call, and I will answer (verses 20-22). Or let me speak, he says, and answer me. Then the right note sounds once more. In the end he must sound that note in full in his wretched misery — "How many are my iniquities and sins? Make me to know my transgression and my sins." But it lasted only a moment. He breaks out in fresh charges against God.

But how dare he speak before that One from whose presence he would instinctively flee? Let Him at least remove the awful dread that chills Job's heart. Let Him relieve his pain, and Job will answer or speak to Him. How these words, beautiful in their very anguish, cry aloud for the blessed Daysman, the Mediator! Blessed be God, we can "with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need."

You see Job could not answer God, and he is struggling under this: what does he say he wants? "There is no arbiter between us, who might lay his hand on us both." Oh, I have no arbiter! "Let Him take His rod away from me, and let not dread of Him terrify me." What Job said he did not have is exactly what we have now in Christ. Was Christ a terror in this world?

On the one hand, there was a remarkable spirit of faith... He had wanted to die. If God granted that wish and killed him, he would not lose confidence but would still trust Him. This was excellent. But Job also showed his weak spot. He was determined to "maintain," or "defend" his own ways before Him. So we see that a true saint may have very real faith in God, and yet a determined streak of self-esteem can spoil it.

Look back at the beginning of Job 23. There Job had expressed his wish to get into contact with God, in a self-confident way. He felt sure he could set out his case before Him... Now the moment had come for his wish to come true. Jehovah tells him to dress for action like a man, and to be ready to answer the voice of God. The questionings now should come from God.

Verse 23 shows that as soon as Job felt himself to be before God, he acknowledged iniquity and sins. He wanted to know how many they were. As the following verses reveal, he felt that the punishment he was suffering went beyond what he really deserved. He was like a man with his feet in the stocks, and so an easy target for anyone who wanted to throw things at him.

Did he say there was no sin in him? He never said anything of the kind. He never had the presumption to say, "I am clean in Your eyes." No, far from it. Unfortunately he had rested instead in being clean in his own eyes, and in the eyes of other people. But he had to learn that being clean in God's eyes was a very different thing. He begins to learn that more and more deeply.

And yet at once he renews his charges against God. He is not yet ready to have all his imagined righteousness stripped away. God holds him as an enemy. He drives him like a withered leaf before the storm. He accuses him of those almost forgotten sins of youth — ah, Job, it seems that even you must admit there have been sins. He watches him, and makes his imagined robe of righteousness look like a moth-eaten garment.

How these words, beautiful in their very anguish, cry aloud for the blessed Daysman, the Mediator! Blessed be God! We can "with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." Job could only grope in darkness.

Job needed this, and God saw that he needed it. He was gracious and devout, but he did not know himself. He had never seen God in a way that brought him to a real knowledge of himself in His presence. So God deals with him in a way that brings his sinfulness fully out. Then He places him in His own presence, with that sinfulness now plain to his conscience.

We need continual recourse to Him whom the psalmist called on: "Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me." What incompetent judges we are in our own case! We do not say to Him, "Search out this or that," but, "Search me." And so, if we are perfectly honest in it, we invite the light to pour into all the dark corners and crannies of our lives and hearts. We are with Him without reserve — for self-judgment, but as He shows us to ourselves and so enables us.

He did not claim to be better than his friends, but he was certainly not below them. Still, he admitted that God's dealings puzzled him, since they were far above him and out of his sight. So, as verse 3 shows, what he wanted was to speak to the Almighty and reason with God, instead of spending his time reasoning with his friends.

"Behold, He finds occasions (or, malicious things) against me, He counts me as His enemy" (Job 33:10)… "Why do You hide Your face and count me as Your enemy?" (Job 13:24; so also Job 19:11). So the insult against divine majesty becomes glaring — Job is pure, but God treats him as impure!

He breaks out in fresh charges against God. His self-righteousness has blinded him so that he asks, "Why do You hide Your face and count me as Your enemy?" He brings terrible charges against his Maker — charges of injustice.

He never said anything of the kind; he never had the presumption to say, "I am clean in Your eyes." No, no, far from it. Sadly, he had rested in being clean in his own eyes, and in other people's eyes. But he had to learn that being clean in God's eyes was a very different thing. He begins to learn that more and more deeply.

God holds him as an enemy. He drives him like a withered leaf before the wind. He accuses him of those almost forgotten sins of youth (ah, Job, it seems that even you must admit there have been sins). He watches him, and makes his imagined robe of righteousness look like a moth-eaten garment. So Job charges his Maker, and does not pause to hear what He will reply.

Will he apologise for the apparent discrepancy in God's ways, and seek to explain it away? No; in one brief sentence he sets aside all human reasoning — "God is greater than man." In other words, God is God. If we are to reason, let it not be from the lesser to the greater, but from the greater to the less. Let us say, How could the Almighty, all-perfect Being commit an unrighteous act? "Shall not the Judge of all the earth do what is just?" (Gen. 18:25).

But how dare he speak before the One he would instinctively flee from? … How these words, beautiful in their very anguish, cry aloud for the blessed Daysman, the Mediator! Blessed be God, we can "with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." Job could only grope in darkness.

We must also remember that the saints of earlier days were not in as good a position as we are today. … The blessed God doubtless met them in their needs, but they did not have, as we do, a sympathising high Priest in heaven. … This man, along with David and Hezekiah, shows us the saint in bodily suffering.

Did he say that there was no sin in him? He never said anything of the kind; he was never so bold as to say, "I am clean in Your eyes." No, no, far from it. Sadly, he had rested in being clean in his own eyes and in the eyes of other people. He had to learn that being clean in God's eyes was a very different thing. He begins to learn that more and more deeply. "Why do You hide Your face and count me as Your enemy? Will You frighten a driven leaf?" Was that a person pretending to any strength?

Because God did not respond, Job thought God considered him an enemy (v.24). He compared himself to a leaf or to dry stubble, not worth any attention. Why would God frighten an object so insignificant?

And yet at once he renews his charges against God. He is not yet ready to let go of his imagined righteousness. God holds him as an enemy. God drives him like a withered leaf before the wind. God accuses him of those almost forgotten sins of youth (ah, Job, it seems that even you must admit there have been sins). So Job charges his Maker, and does not pause to hear what He will reply.

He asked only for relief from suffering, and that the dread of Him should not overwhelm him. He wanted to find out all that was wrong in himself. He begged to know why he was driven to and fro like a leaf or dry stubble. He did not yet know the grace that was giving him self-judgment. He sees only a record kept of bitter things, and himself made to inherit his youthful iniquities.

This man, along with David and Hezekiah, shows a believer suffering in his body. "Why do You hide Your face and count me as Your enemy? Will You frighten a driven leaf and pursue dry chaff?" (Job 13:24-25). "O Lord, rebuke me not in Your anger, nor discipline me in Your wrath" (David, Ps. 6:1). For Hezekiah, see Isaiah 38. What good would a prayer book or a written form of prayer have been to men in such circumstances? No one can predict the distresses of the heart.

To be "let alone" by God is the most awful condition in which man can find himself. It is ten thousand times better to be poured from one jar to another, like Job, than to be left to drift down the stream, like Ephraim. It is better to feel the weight of God's hand in discipline — for it is a Father's hand — than to live with the sense that He has turned His face away.

Because God did not respond, it seemed to Job that God counted him as an enemy (v. 24)… He felt that God was writing bitter things against him — not literally, but at least in effect. He also felt that God was bringing up the sins of his youth, since his more recent sins would not be as blatant as those of his youth (v. 26).

Sadly he had rested in being clean in his own eyes, and in other people's eyes. But he had to learn that being clean in God's eyes was a very different thing… "For you write bitter things against me and make me inherit the iniquities of my youth" — it may be that they are coming upon me now.

And yet at once he renews his charges against God. He is not yet ready for God to strip away all his imagined righteousness… God accuses him of those almost forgotten sins of youth (ah, Job, it seems that even you must admit there have been sins). He watches him, and makes his imagined robe of righteousness look like a moth-eaten garment.

He wished to find out all that was wrong in himself, and begged to know why he was driven back and forth like a leaf or dry stubble. He did not yet know the grace that was giving him self-judgment. He sees only a record kept of bitter things, and himself made to inherit the iniquities of his youth.

How these words, beautiful in their very anguish, cry aloud for the blessed go-between, the Mediator! Blessed be God, we can come with confidence to the throne of grace, to receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need. Job could only grope in the dark.

"Remember, O Lord, Your tender mercies and Your loving kindnesses, for they are from of old" (v. 6)… And He will answer too the prayer that follows, "Do not remember the sins of my youth, nor my transgressions" (v. 7). Where there is faith that depends on Him, He will not remember the sins of our youth against us. Nor will He remember our transgressions against us.

sad: stocks in which the feet were shut up. Job 13:27; Job 33:11; Acts 16:24.

"You put my feet also in the stocks" — you make me an object of shame before everybody — "and look closely at all my paths; you set a mark on the heels of my feet." Someone might think the heels were hidden. But no — everything is marked.

He felt that the punishment he was suffering went beyond what he deserved. He was like a man with his feet in the stocks, and so an easy target for those who wanted to throw things at him.

And yet at once he renews his charges against God. He is not yet ready to let God strip away the righteousness he imagines he has. God holds him as an enemy. He drives him like a withered leaf in the wind. He charges him with those almost forgotten sins of youth — ah, Job, it seems that even you must admit there have been sins. He watches him, and makes the robe of righteousness Job imagines he wears look like a moth-eaten garment. So Job charges his Maker, and does not pause to hear what He will reply.

He asked only for a break from suffering, and that God's dread would not overwhelm him. He wanted to find out everything that was wrong in himself. He did not yet know the grace that was giving him self-judgment. He sees only a record kept of bitter things: his feet put in the stocks, his ways watched, the very soles of his feet marked.

He was so clean, so innocent, so free from iniquity. And yet he says of God, "He finds occasions against me, He counts me for His enemy. He puts my feet in the stocks and watches all my paths." Here is an obvious contradiction. How could a holy, just, and righteous Being count a pure and innocent man His enemy? Impossible. Either Job was deceiving himself, or God was unrighteous.

Elihu does not misrepresent Job, and he is not seizing on some chance expression. Such charges must be met, and Job convinced that they are false, or he could never have peace in his own soul, and a dark stain would rest on God's honour.

"He never withdraws His eyes from the righteous." Even a Job might find this a painful trial rather than a gain in his time of distress. He cried out in his anguish, "What is man, that You make so much of him, and that You set Your heart on him, visit him every morning and test him every moment?" But Job, with all his outward perfection, had not yet seen God as he was to see Him... How blessed it is, once we have truly seen Him, to know that every step we take matters to Him!

He wanted to find out all that was wrong in himself. He begged to know why God drove him back and forth like a leaf or dry stubble. He did not yet know the grace that was giving him self-judgment. He sees only a record kept of bitter things. He sees himself made to inherit the sins of his youth. God puts his feet in the stocks, watches his ways, and marks the very soles of his feet. And all the while he was only wasting away like a rotten thing, or a moth-eaten garment.

This is the clothes-moth, whose damage is well known. In the East garments were kept in large quantities, as property and as gifts. Moths do not attack clothing that is worn; they lay their eggs in what is laid up, and there the young find their food. From this comes the lesson to lay up treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust can spoil or destroy.

Verse 28 is true of all mankind. But Job was thinking of himself as decaying, and complaining about it. Sin belongs to the nature we received from Adam. We cannot escape the decay it brings, and that decay ends in death.

And yet at once he renews his charges against God. He is not yet ready to lose the righteousness he imagines he has. God holds him as an enemy. He drives him like a withered leaf before the wind. He charges him with those almost forgotten sins of youth (ah, Job, it seems that even you must admit there have been sins). He watches him, and makes his imagined robe of righteousness look like a moth-eaten garment. So Job accuses his Maker, and does not pause to hear what He will reply.

Did he say there was no sin in him? He never said anything of the kind; he never had the presumption to say, "I am clean in your eyes." No, far from it. Unfortunately he had rested in being clean in his own eyes, and in the eyes of other people. But he had to learn that being clean in God's eyes was a very different thing. He begins to learn that more and more deeply… "You watch closely all my paths; you set a mark on the soles of my feet." You might think the soles of the feet are hidden. But no — God marks everything. "And he, like a rotten thing, wastes away, like a garment that is moth-eaten."

This address closes the first round of the debate. Its ending is a most beautiful song of mourning over the frailty and uncertainty of human life. Man comes up like a flower, and is cut down and withers. We are listening to the wail of Psalm 90, but without its faith in God, and not yet followed by the triumph of Psalm 91.