Job 26:8–10

But let me, Bildad, tell you something about the greatness of God before which your words pale into nothing. And so he utters a description of God's greatness which is indeed greater than Bildad's.

Job moves from the starry heavens to the skies closer to the earth. He describes the clouds in language that is both beautiful poetry and accurate science: they are the containers for the waters above the earth. It is God who gathers the vapours of the sky and condenses them into the thick clouds. If these waters poured down on the earth unchecked, the result would be a destructive flood. He binds these waters in the clouds, and sends them down in gentle showers according to His will, and as the thirsty earth needs.

Here is God's amazing power seen also in His drawing up waters and binding them in clouds (v.8). Clouds hold tremendous amounts of water, yet they are not broken by it — until, of course, the time comes for God to release the water as rain on the earth. In recent times we have heard of as much as three feet of rain coming down as a deluge on the earth in one day! How that rain was held up in the clouds until the time of its release is an astounding miracle.

"He binds up the waters in his thick clouds, and the cloud is not split open under them" — that is, whether it is the little rain or the great rain, all is under God's control… These are only the fringes of His ways, and it is only the whisper that we hear now.

And how good He is! If He opened the windows of heaven all at once, a flood would sweep all life away. Instead, He makes the drops of rain small, and they fall as refreshment "upon the place beneath." His afflictions work the same way. The suffering and the grief are, after all, only blessings in disguise for faith.

He first replies to Bildad's argument as it refers to himself. Admitting that he is the one "without power," what good are Bildad's lofty words? Do they help to solve the dark riddle of present suffering? Has he given any counsel to Job, or unravelled the tormenting mystery of God's treatment of him?

God is spoken of as tying up the waters in thick clouds, so that their contents cannot escape until He pleases. Meanwhile He encloses the face of the throne (the outside of the heavens towards the earth), spreading His clouds over it.

Beyond those clouds is His throne, hidden from the view of our eyes. "Clouds and thick darkness are all around him; righteousness and justice are the foundation of his throne" (Ps. 97:2). But with all his knowledge and skill, man fails to see through those clouds and behold Him who sits on that throne. Faith alone sees Him there — the face of Him who rides on to victory.

There is another darkness in which God still dwells. I mean the darkness that broods or settles over the whole scene around us — our circumstances, and the way God orders events. In that place God works unseen, at least as a rule. In that place He says, as I might put it, "What I am doing you do not understand now." We must still walk by faith, where God still dwells in darkness. We shall know later. We shall see face to face then, though now we see dimly.

If righteousness and justice are the foundation of Jehovah's throne, the face of that throne was still kept back from the gaze of men. It stayed inside the thick darkness where God said He would dwell. "The way into the holy places is not yet opened as long as the first section is still standing" (Heb. 9:8). All the ministry of that tabernacle was imperfect, and appointed for change.

The day when all is made plain is coming, and God is not in a hurry to justify Himself. The darkness is the discipline of faith, but in the face of Christ there is glory without a veil.

What does Job 26 let us hear Job saying in answer? First he pays an ironic compliment to the speech just delivered, praising its power and wisdom as if it had settled the question in debate. Then, despite all his misery, he sets out the power of God far more fully and far more vividly than they did. He adds the solemn realities of the unseen world.

"He encircles the waters with bounds." These are the waters of the earth, the "great and wide sea," whose proud waves cannot pass their appointed limits. "You set a boundary that they may not pass, so that they might not again cover the earth" (Ps. 104:9). "To the boundary between light and darkness." The boundary is far away. It is marked only where light merges into darkness, "from the dim edge of the horizon." This gives a more beautiful and fitting meaning than the older translation does.

If you look across the sea, the horizon appears to be a boundary beyond which everything seems dark. So the greatness of God sets astonishing mysteries before people. They raise many questions that human wisdom cannot answer.

Thank God, these physical limits are only signs of power in His hand. He uses that power to restrain and set bounds in things beyond the material too. That is how we are to read them.

He knew that God had worked by His Spirit to make the heavens beautiful. Learned unbelievers today would be slow to admit that. At the same time he knew that his own day had seen only a part of God's ways. So his comment was, "What a whisper of a word do we hear of Him!" Let this moving cry of Job sink into all our hearts. He had only a "whisper of a word" about God. Israel knew something of "the thunder of His power," when God gave the law at Sinai through Moses. We have the high privilege of knowing and enjoying the "grace and truth" that came by Jesus Christ. More than that, we walk in "the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ" (2 Cor. 4:6). We may well bless God, who has brought us out of darkness into His marvellous light.

"Look, these are parts of His ways" — they are only the fringes of His ways, which gives the idea. "But how little a portion is heard of Him?" It is only the whisper that we hear now. "But the thunder of His power" — ah! that waits for the day of judgment — "who can understand?"