Oh would that my words were written! oh that they were inscribed in a book!
Job has lost everything, and the friends who came to comfort him now accuse him. In chapter 19 he begs them for pity and gets none, so he reaches for something that will outlast them all: a record of his words that no one can erase.
The wish for a lasting record is not calm reflection. It bursts out after his friends ignore his plea and insist that his suffering proves his guilt.
The plea for pity and sympathy might well move hearts of stone, but Job's words appear to fall on ears that will not hear. Their argument was that God's hand had been on him — for his sin. Job asks if they will persecute him as God was doing — a terrible charge. Will they feed wildly on his flesh with an appetite that is never satisfied? Such injustice drives him almost frantic. He longs to see his words — charging them, and God — written and cut into the rock forever, where nothing can erase them.
The older English word "printed" misleads a modern reader. Job is not asking for copies; he is asking for something no weather or enemy can wear away.
"Oh that my words were," and so on — not exactly printed in a book, but pressed into stone, or however people wrote in those days. He is speaking of a very lasting form.
Why does he want everything fixed in stone? Because of what rises in him as he speaks: the certainty that God will step in at the end.
The truth of God's intervention at the end blazes before his soul. So he wishes his words written, inscribed in the book — no, engraved with a pen of iron and with lead on a rock forever. And no wonder. He knows his Kinsman-Redeemer lives.
He does not want this kept private. The wish reaches past his three companions to everyone who will ever live.
What intensity this is! The Holy Spirit enables Job to set his seal to all this precious confession of his faith. Job would have all men know it, and every generation of them. He would publish it far and wide. He would tell it out without any fear that he would ever have to cancel a letter of it. He would engrave it for eternity and fill the letters with lead in the rock — that he knew his Redeemer!
Job wants every word kept, including his protests of innocence and his complaints against God. He would not stand by all of them later.
At this point Job longs to have his words written down for good, for he was sure he was speaking the truth. In fact, what he has said stands in the Word of God for eternity. That is more lasting than rock engraved with an iron pen and lead poured into the letters. Job, however, will not think all those words true forever. Later he learned that God was not a persecutor at all, but One who in everything sought the greatest good of His servant.
Which part, then, was worth the chisel? Not his self-defence, but the confession that broke out of him about the One he had just been accusing.
And then, in the middle of all these laments, he speaks those magnificent words of faith: "I know that my Redeemer lives." But this was the very God he had just been charging with injustice! How good to see Job's faith turn, in all this turmoil, to the very One he was speaking against. These — not his own protests of innocence — are the words worth engraving on the lasting rock.
Rock inscriptions were a real practice, and some survive. Job received something better.
He longed to have his words kept in a book, or even engraved on the rock for good, as kings and great men used to do in those days. People have found such rock records and read them. Yet his desire came true in a more wonderful way than he imagined. His words stand in the inspired Scriptures, which outlast and outreach everything else.
His words outlived him, and they carry more than his own case.
And his memorable words, written in the BOOK OF BOOKS forever, give us the first clear declaration of a life beyond the death that man's sin brought in.
- Pressure — His friends refuse him pity and read his suffering as proof of sin. The wish bursts out of that.
- Permanence — He does not ask for copies. He asks for stone: words no accuser can erase.
- Reason — He reaches for the chisel for one reason: his Redeemer lives, and God will step in at the end.
- Sifting — Job later dropped his charges against God. The words worth the rock were his confession of faith, not his self-defence.
- Answer — The wish came true in a better form. His words stand in Scripture, outlasting stone. They give the first clear declaration of life beyond death.
That with an iron style and lead they were graven in the rock for ever!
Job's friends read his suffering as proof of hidden sin, and his plea for pity fell on deaf ears. So he asks for the one thing no accuser could erase: his words cut into rock and filled with lead.
One reference work places the wish early in history and explains the craft behind it:
The history and book of Job are judged to be very early, and he speaks not only of writing but of a book. This refers to his words being engraved on a rock and filled in with lead.
Kings and great men used rock this way. Job's wish came true, but not in the form he pictured.
He longed for his words to be kept in a book, or even carved to last on the rock, as kings and great men did in those days. People have since found such rock records and read them. Yet his desire came true in a more wonderful way than he imagined: his words stand in the inspired Scriptures, which outlive and outlast everything else.
Job has just begged his friends for pity. They went on treating his agony as evidence against him.
The plea for pity and sympathy might well move hearts of stone, but Job's words seem to fall on unhearing ears. It was their claim that God's hand had been upon him — for his sin. Job asks: will they persecute him as God was doing? What an awful charge! Will they feed madly on his flesh, never satisfied? Such injustice makes him almost frantic. He longs that his words — charging them, and God — were written, engraved in the rock forever, so they could never be erased.
A man asks for a permanent record when he is sure of what he has said. Yet Job's own view of those words would change.
At this point Job longs for his words to be written where no one could erase them (vv. 23-24). He was sure he was telling the truth. In fact, what he has said is inscribed in the Word of God for eternity. That lasts longer than rock engraved with an iron pen, with lead set into the letters. Job, however, will not consider all those words true for eternity. After this he learned that God was not a persecutor at all. He was One who in everything sought the greatest good of His servant.
Job's confession comes right after this wish: his Redeemer lives.
And then, in the middle of all these laments, he speaks those magnificent words of faith. He says, "I know that my Redeemer lives." But this was the very God he had just been charging with injustice! How good it is to see Job's faith in all this turmoil, turning to the very One he was speaking against! Truly these — not his own protests of innocence — are words worth engraving on the lasting rock.
Something breaks in on Job between the complaint and the confession.
The truth of God's intervention at the end flashes so brightly before his soul that he wishes his words written, inscribed in the book, better still, engraved with a pen of iron and with lead on a rock forever. And no wonder. He knows his Kinsman-Redeemer lives.
A man asking for lead and rock expects to still agree with himself in a thousand years.
And what fervency this is! The Holy Spirit enables Job to set his seal to all this precious confession of his faith. Job would have everyone know it, and every generation of them. He would publish it far and wide. He would tell it out without any fear that he might one day have to cancel a letter of it. He would engrave it for eternity and set it in lead in the rock — that he knew his Redeemer!
- Pressed — Friends who would not pity him drove Job to want his case written where no one could erase it.
- Pictured — He asks for the hardest material his world knew: letters cut into rock and filled with lead.
- Prompted — The wish rises above complaint because of what follows: he knows his Redeemer lives.
- Published — His words outlasted rock. They stand in Scripture, which outlives everything else.
- Purified — Not every word Job insisted on proved true. His confession of faith, not his protests of innocence, deserved the stone.
And [as for] me, I know that my Redeemer liveth, and the Last, he shall stand upon the earth;
Job speaks these words while sitting in ruin. His wealth is gone, his children are dead, and his friends insist that his suffering proves his guilt. Out of that misery comes a confession of faith. It raises two questions: who is this Redeemer, and what did Job expect Him to do?
The same man who has just accused God of wronging him now anchors himself in God.
And then, in the middle of all these laments, he speaks those magnificent words of faith: "I know that my Redeemer lives." But this was the very God whom he was accusing of injustice a moment ago! How good it is to see Job's faith in all this turmoil turning to the very One he was speaking against! Truly these — not his own protests of innocence — are words worth carving into lasting rock.
The word is not an abstract title. It names a family role.
The Redeemer is the ordinary word for next of kin. The right of redemption and of avenging injuries fell on him. God would be his goel, to use the Hebrew word. People have thought Job's faith could not have reached this — perhaps not as a settled habit. But here his soul rises up to God. He sets life in God against the present wasting away of skin and flesh. The power to deliver from that perishing condition — and the will to do it — was there. He lives; He stands up above all that is dust. Job was possibly looking for deliverance in this life, but I have no doubt the Spirit looks on to a better resurrection.
Job does not say his Redeemer will one day live. He says He lives now, while Job is dying.
If he knew that his Redeemer lived, that could only be true of a Divine Person. He believed He would come to this earth. He did so, and will do so again. Then Job also knew that he himself would be raised in the body if he died. He had no doubt or scepticism about resurrection.
The second half of the verse looks forward to the Redeemer standing on the earth.
It was because he knew that his Redeemer was the living One, and that as "the Last," He would stand upon the earth. Darby's New Translation renders it this way, as really being a name of God, pointing us to Isaiah 48:12. So again, Job showed clearly that he knew death was not the end of everything for man. He expected a resurrection which would reach his body. What was not revealed then was the state of incorruption that resurrection brings us into. Life and incorruptibility came to light through the gospel, as 2 Timothy 1:10 reads when rightly translated.
Translators have rendered the words that follow in more than one way, and commentators differ over what Job meant.
In the following words commentators have found different meanings, depending on their translation. We can reduce these to two. Does Job say, "In my flesh I shall see God," or "Away from my flesh I shall see God?" Is he declaring his belief in a spiritual, bodiless condition after death, where he will see God and receive his vindication? Or is he plainly stating his conviction that there will be a literal bodily resurrection?
The same writer answers his own question:
Does not Job speak here of seeing the Lord with his own eyes, and does this not need a resurrection? He does not seem to have been looking for the Redeemer to act for him in this present life. He looked beyond his death — to a glorified body. So, as someone has beautifully said, "he plants the flag of victory on his own grave."
Job spoke before the cross and before the empty tomb.
Job looked forward, through the dim twilight, to something that was to be done in the far-off future. We look back, from the full flood-tide of divine revelation, to something that has been done. Job could say of his Redeemer that "at the last he will stand upon the earth." We know that our Redeemer sits on the throne of the Majesty in the heavens. He lived, laboured, and died on the earth first.
- Kinsman. "Redeemer" is the family word for the next of kin — the one who buys back what was lost and avenges the wrong. Job claims God as his.
- Living. The kinsman is alive while Job is wasting away. A living Redeemer could only be a Divine Person.
- Standing. That living One will stand at the last upon the earth — and "the Last" is itself a name of God.
- Rising. Because the Redeemer lives and stands, Job expects to see God with his own eyes, in a body raised from the grave.
- Ours. Job said this in twilight, looking forward. The Christian says it in daylight, looking back at a finished work.
And [if] after my skin this shall be destroyed, yet from out of my flesh shall I see +God;
Job speaks from the ash heap, his body wasting and his friends against him, yet he looks past his own decay to a sight of God. Commentators ask two things of the line: did Job mean rescue in this life or resurrection after death, and does "in my flesh" mean inside a raised body or no body at all?
One writer sets this confession against everything Job had lost and was still suffering.
He suffered the most terrible stripping a man ever had. All his wealth and family were swept away in a series of lightning blows. Then came the mocking and tormenting of his self-righteous friends, while he sat among the broken pieces of pottery with every nerve of his body quivering in agony. The worms might consume his flesh. He had no materialistic doubts about the power of God to raise him, and that his eyes would really behold his Redeemer. I don't think we, New Testament believers, can surpass Job's statement in its quiet assurance and magnificent faith.
Some read the phrase as "out of my flesh," and take Job to mean a soul with no body. One commentator answers them.
Some will probably have heard that people question the meaning of these words, or claim they mean "out of my flesh." But we should remember that "out of my flesh" can mean from within it, as you might look out from a window. It does not mean the spirit separated from the flesh. We must not confuse "out of my flesh" with "without my flesh," which it does not necessarily imply. He is holding fast to what everyone, and especially anyone in the Old Testament, would hold: that a person really has to do with God. And in Old Testament thought a person meant the whole person — not the soul and spirit on their own, but the body too. He can see his body breaking up before him. He sees everything crumbling into dust, and his flesh becoming food for worms. Yet he still holds the confidence that he will not only see God, but see Him from out of his flesh. So the resurrection is clearly assumed in these words, and all the efforts of men to destroy the force of the passage fail.
One writer asks what state Job expects to be in when that sight comes.
The body is destroyed — not merely the skin, but everything belonging to man in his natural state. But what then? "Yet in my flesh I shall see God." Job was to be raised and live again, and to live in a glorious way, in power and incorruption. "Whom I shall see for myself." He was not in the least afraid of the Lord. He loved to think of Him, and looked for His intervention with certainty.
Another writer sets Job's wording beside the Lord's own words after He rose.
Many have again misunderstood these words and used them to deny the resurrection of the flesh. Yet Job expressed his confident expectation of resurrection in these terms: "in my flesh I shall see God." The Psalmist too, speaking prophetically of One greater, says that His flesh would rest in hope. And when the One he spoke of rose from the dead, He said that He still had flesh and bones: "A spirit does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have."
Commentators differ over how far Job saw. One letter allows that Job may have meant present rescue, while the Spirit meant more.
As to Job 19:25, I believe that in Job's mind it was a confident trust that God would deliver him then. But I cannot help thinking that the Spirit of God arranged it so as to imply a brighter and better hope... People have thought Job's faith could not have reached this — perhaps not as a habit. But here his soul rises up to God, and he sets life in God against the present wasting of skin and flesh... He lives, He stands up above all that is dust; and while Job was possibly looking for deliverance, I have no doubt the Spirit looks to a better resurrection.
That distinction between the speaker's thought and the Spirit's meaning is treated elsewhere as a working rule for reading the Old Testament.
Two things have to be remembered — the meaning Job attached to his words, and the mind of the Spirit in them. It is quite possible (we do not say it was so) that Job only thought of deliverance from his present condition, his restoration and vindication. But the language as used by the Holy Spirit becomes undoubtedly a prophecy of the coming of Christ and of the resurrection of His people. The same thing is often seen in the Old Testament Scriptures.
One writer asks how Job could know such a thing, and where a sight of God is found.
How amazing that Job could say this. Only by divine revelation could he know it, for he recognised that though he was destroyed by death, yet in his flesh he would see God. This certainly means resurrection. Also, the only way he — or anyone — will see God is in the person of the Lord Jesus.
- Ruin. Job speaks with his skin destroyed and his body wasting. His hope rests on nothing he can still see.
- Flesh. "Out of my flesh" means looking out from within a body, as through a window — not a spirit stripped of one.
- Resurrection. The body decays completely. Even so, Job expects to rise in power and incorruption, with flesh and bones like his risen Lord.
- Revelation. Job may have thought only of rescue in this life. The Spirit who gave the words carried them further — to Christ's coming and His people's rising.
- Sight. The hope ends in a Person seen. Job will see God, and God is seen in the Lord Jesus.
Whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold, and not another -- my reins are consumed within me.
Job is in ruin. His body is wasting away, yet he reaches past it to a sight he is sure of: he will see God with his own eyes. Two questions follow. Who exactly will he see? And how can a dying man expect to see anyone at all?
The force of the words falls on the pronouns. Job does not say a redeemer, or someone else's eyes. He claims the sight as his own. One writer sets that claim beside Paul's.
What an understanding of Christ in both His person and His work is here! It is the faith and hope of our gospel. Job knew he had a Redeemer. That Redeemer was living then, and would later stand upon the earth manifested in flesh. And Job knew this Redeemer would win for him a glorious victory over the power of death and the strength of corruption. And all this fine understanding of Christ comes with the simplest faith that takes it for itself. "Whom I shall see for myself," says Job, "and my eyes shall behold, and not another." This is the confidence of Paul. Paul and Job, in the same spirit, knew the glorious redemption, and knew it for themselves. "Who loved me, and gave Himself for me."
If Job's own eyes are to do the seeing, his body must come back. That is why one writer reads the verse as resurrection.
Does not Job speak here of seeing the Lord with his own eyes? And does that not call for a resurrection? He does not seem to have looked for the Redeemer to act for him in this present life. He looked for Him to act after his death — in a glorified body. So, as it has been beautifully put, "he plants the flag of victory upon his own grave."
Job expects to see God. Another writer points out the only form that sight can ever take.
How amazing that Job could say this! Only by divine revelation could he know it, for he recognised that though he was destroyed by death, yet in his flesh he would see God. This certainly means resurrection. Also, the only way he — or anyone — will see God is in the person of the Lord Jesus (John 1:18).
The verse does not end in calm. ESV reads "My heart faints within me"; older versions read "my reins are consumed within me." One writer ties that collapse to the gap between what Job saw ahead and what he felt right then.
What a blessed hope! What a glorious outlook! No wonder that Job, aware of his present sufferings, adds, "My reins are consumed within me." Set such a glorious hope for the future beside the torture he had to bear in the present. The contrast was so great that he nearly fainted with longing for this unspeakable happiness. But after his restoration and recovery it is certain that he often strengthened himself with this hope.
Because the words are hard to translate, one writer separates two questions and keeps both.
This scripture is admittedly hard to translate exactly. Even so, the sense is plain enough. But we must remember two things — the meaning Job attached to his words, and the mind of the Spirit in them. It is quite possible that Job only thought of his deliverance from his present condition, his restoration and vindication. We do not say that it was so. But as the Holy Spirit used it, the language undoubtedly becomes a prophecy of the coming of Christ, and of the resurrection of His people.
Writers weigh Job's knowledge in two ways. One compares its content with ours and finds it small. Another looks at its confidence and finds it unsurpassed.
Job looked forward, through the dim twilight, to something that was to be done in the far-off future. We look back, from the full flood-tide of divine revelation, to something that has been done.
Job knew he himself would be raised in the body should he die. He had no doubt or scepticism about resurrection. The worms might consume his flesh. He had no materialistic doubts about the power of God to raise him. He had no doubt that his eyes would really see his Redeemer. I don't think we, New Testament believers, can surpass Job's statement in its quiet assurance and magnificent faith.
- Mine. Job claims the hope for himself — "for myself," "not another" — the same faith that says "who loved me, and gave Himself for me."
- Eyes. Seeing with his own eyes demands a raised body. Job plants the flag of victory on his own grave.
- Whom. The God he expects to see is seen only in the person of the Lord Jesus.
- Ache. The gap between that future and his present torture leaves him fainting with longing — a hope he later leaned on once restored.
- Reach. Job spoke in twilight of what was still to come; we look back on it done — yet his quiet assurance is not surpassed.