Job 9:29–35

Job hints that there is no use in his making any effort to clear himself. If he is already pronounced wicked, he labours in vain to convince God that he is not. He may wash his hands in innocence, in snow water, only to be taken by this irresistible Power and plunged into the ditch! All efforts to alter the judgment are vain.

The more a man labours to be good, the more he finds he is like the Ethiopian who cannot change his skin. The evil is in his nature, and he cannot get rid of it. When there is real integrity of heart, there is struggle. A sense of integrity, without the knowledge of righteousness, brings much misery to the heart.

It is a happy thing to see that when the arrow of God has got deep into the heart, no efforts can draw it out. A man may keep up the appearance of happiness before others, but the wound keeps aching inside. Here he may try to be religious with an earthly mind. There it may only make him more miserable. Or he may throw himself into pleasure, because he is unhappy. If I am wicked, I may ask to be let alone. Such are the struggles of a soul under conviction, and a hard struggle it is.

God will show him to be defective after all. That is true. If you are resting upon yourself, you are resting upon a ground that is not approved before God. If you are resting upon Christ, you have got the only solid ground that never can be taken from you.

Both Job and his friend Bildad long ago raised the question, "How can man be just with God?" (Job 9; 25). Both had in mind that man is fallen and guilty. Their question found no definite answer in Old Testament times. For this riddle, as for many others, men had to wait until God sent forth His beloved Son. "But now," says the Apostle, "the righteousness of God has been manifested" (Rom. 3:21). It is offered "to all," and it is "upon all who believe." Its foundation is the blood of Christ.

The fourth "If …" comes in verse 30. Job has already thrown out three answers to his question — defiance, self-justification, and careless forgetting. What about a course of self-improvement?… He knew that melted snow gives the purest distilled water, with the greatest power to absorb and remove filth. Suppose he reached something like this in his own character and life — what then? God would still drop him into a dirty ditch, as the only place fit for him. And even then, under his clothes, he would be dirtier than they are! The filth was in himself, not in his surroundings. He could not reject more firmly the idea of being justified by a process of self-improvement.

Whatever you try, you cannot make yourself one bit better, or one bit more fit for the Saviour's presence… Snow water is the very purest of all water. So what does snow water stand for? Rites and ceremonies, and everything else that comes only from man's flesh. People are trying all this, but it does not work. Snow water does not cleanse from sin. Nothing can cleanse you before God, or give relief to your soul, but the precious blood of Christ. Trying to improve yourself is only a trap of the devil to keep you away from the Saviour.

A man may keep up the appearance of happiness in front of others, but the wound keeps aching in his heart… Next it is, "wash me with snow water." But this will not do. God's eye sees too far; He sees motives. Snow water is no use. I am so filthy that my own clothes hate me… What is Job looking into Job to find out? That a man cannot be just with God. It is a terrible lesson: all his snow water is useless, and he washes his hands for nothing. Is that the ground you are standing on?

He felt that when he listed his works of righteousness he had cleansed his hands as with snow water. But when God came before his soul again, he became utterly disgusting to his clothes. He uses a very strong picture: "my own clothes will abhor me." I think this is what it means. The fine qualities of his life, which he tried to wear as clothing, were the result of God's work in him. They refused to serve as decorations for the flesh. They did not belong to that man, and were not there to give him glory. Later he says, "I abhor myself." He came to the same mind as his clothes.

Even if he bathed himself in water as pure as snow, and washed his hands with soap, so that he was cleaner than he had ever been, God would still plunge him into the ditch. All self-help and self-improvement is in vain. But then comes a ray of light. He needs another to help him, to bring him in touch with God, to make him just with God. He calls for a daysman, an umpire, one who might lay His hand on God and on him, the sinner, to take the rod away from him and set him free from fear… But He has come: Christ Jesus our Lord.

His only hope was for a third party to step in, and he knew of no such third party, no such "daysman." His three friends could not play that part, and no other man could either. The daysman must be great enough to lay one hand on Almighty God, and gracious enough to lay the other on poor, diseased, sinful Job.

The fourth "If…" occurs in verse 30. Job has already thrown out three suggested answers to his question: defiance, self-justification, and careless forgetfulness. What about a course of self-improvement? Would that help solve the question? He only has to state it to reject it just as firmly.

Snow water is the very purest of all water, and what does snow water picture? Rites and ceremonies, and everything else that springs merely from man's flesh. People are trying all this, but it does not work; snow water does not cleanse from sin.

God would plunge him into a dirty ditch as the only fit place for him. And even then, he himself, under his clothes, would be dirtier than they were! The defilement was in himself and not in his surroundings. Nothing could be more decisive than his rejection of the idea that a man is justified by a process of self-improvement.

I cannot make myself clean before God. Men pass through the world in an astonishing way. They think about their character, their conduct, and getting honour from one another. But what are they in God's sight? … The more a man works at being good, the more he finds he cannot change what he is. The evil is in his nature, and he cannot get rid of it.

He seeks to adorn himself with his good deeds. But God lets His light into his soul, and he adds, "Yet you will plunge me into a pit, and my own clothes will abhor me." What God's grace had worked in him refused, so to speak, to be decoration for the flesh. His clothes abhorred him. Later on he comes to the same mind as his clothes: he abhors himself.

How Satan must mock any man who tries to make himself clean and fit for the presence of God. The Lord said of Job that he had no equal on earth, and that he was perfect and upright. Yet even then Job knew enough of himself to say these words. He did not know how vile his nature was. A man learns that only in the presence of God, whose divine light lays the heart bare. When brought to that light, he says, "Behold, I am vile."

Job hints that there is no use in his making any effort to clear himself… he may wash his hands in innocence, in snow water. Then this irresistible Power takes him and plunges him into the ditch! All efforts to alter the judgment are useless. And oh, where is there a daysman — a mediator who could enter into judgment, laying his hands on God and Job alike? … Thank God, we know, as Job later knew in part, that there is such a Daysman.

It is the only means of cleansing from guilt. God appointed this way and God gave it. It therefore rules out every other method… Only the blood of Christ can make the sinner whiter than snow.

This drew from Job the striking words recorded in Job 9. He began by admitting that God's disciplinary ways are right. But he raised the all-important question: how could a man be right with God? In our day people use the short sentence, "Get right with God," to awaken interest in the gospel message. It might well provoke the reply, "Yes, but how is it to be done?" This is exactly the question Job asked in verse 2. The rest of the chapter shows how earnest and sincere he was in asking it, for he suggested and examined four possible answers.

Again the vast difference between himself, a poor loathsome creature, and the Creator weighs on his mind... He felt altogether too little and too feeble to deal directly with God. If He were only a man, Job felt he could approach Him and lay out his case before Him. He could show Him that there was no just cause for the treatment he felt he was receiving. But the One who afflicted him was hidden from him, and His greatness was a terror to him.

The word means 'mediator,' or 'umpire,' as the margin has it: one "who might lay his hand on us both" (Job 9:33). This is what the Lord Jesus is — the mediator between God and men.

How clear it is that Job knew he was a sinful creature before his holy Creator, and that he had in himself no means of getting right. That being so, his only hope was in the stepping in of a third party; but no such third party, or "daysman," was known to him. His three friends could not act the part, and neither could any other man. The daysman must be great enough to lay one of his hands on Almighty God, and gracious enough to lay the other on poor diseased and sinful Job.

Long before Christ appeared the hearts of men longed for a mediator. The book of Job is evidence of this, for that patriarch felt the immense gulf that lay between God and himself... The One who takes up the part of Daysman or Mediator must Himself be God to fully represent God, and must be Man to rightly represent man. The Man Christ Jesus is He.

Realising that man cannot bridge the gulf that sin has made between himself and God, Job felt the need of a mediator. Christ alone meets this need. From the glory of the Godhead He stooped to manhood in His indescribable grace. This enables Him to "lay His hand on us both." But His becoming man could not of itself remove one single sin... Forgiveness is impossible apart from blood. So the apostle adds: "Who gave Himself as a ransom for all." The manger was a necessary step to the cross.

Now Elihu is a name with a meaning, and we are told it means "God Himself." Keep this in mind, then read verse 6 of Job 33. We see that he stepped in to play the part of a mediator. So he became a picture — though a faint one — of the true Mediator, the Lord Jesus Christ, who is God Himself. Elihu was truly a man, formed out of the clay. He stood before Job on God's behalf, just as Job had wished in Job 9:33.

This chapter brings out the state of Job's mind. He says, "I know it is so of a truth. But how should man be just with God?" He gets before God as Judge; and his perplexity is very great. He cannot answer God one in a thousand. "I am afraid of all my sorrows. I know that You will not hold me innocent." Poor Job! He does not know now which way to turn. And is not this the case with every believer the moment he gets before God as Judge?

The word means 'mediator,' or 'umpire,' as in the margin: one "that might lay his hand upon us both," Job 9:33: as the Lord Jesus is mediator between God and men.

How clear it is that Job knew he was a sinful creature before his holy Creator, and that he had in himself no means of getting right. That being so, his only hope was in the stepping in of a third party; but he knew of no such third party, no "daysman." His three friends could not act the part, and neither could any other man. The daysman must be great enough to lay one of his hands upon Almighty God, and gracious enough to lay the other upon poor, diseased, sinful Job.

I might come to you and lay my hand upon your shoulder and talk freely with you, for we are equals. But I could not stand beside His Majesty the King and lay my hand upon him. How much less could a man lay his hand upon God, or upon the throne of God!... And yet the mediator for whom Job cried in his despair must be able to put His hand upon God. He must be God's equal. No one less could step in, or be of use to Job or to us. But He must also put His hand upon men. He must be one of us, able to take our part and to identify Himself with our vast indebtedness. HE MUST BE GOD AND MAN.

I am not commenting here on the spirit in which Job takes the matter up, for it was a wrong one. I bring it forward to show this: the sense of needing a mediator arises from the conviction of sin, and does not hinder it.

He reminds Job of his own desire for such a person: "Neither is there any daysman between us, that might lay his hand upon us both" (Job 9:33)... To this desire Elihu now replies: "Behold, I am according to your wish, in God's stead; I also am formed out of the clay. Behold, my terror shall not make you afraid, neither shall my hand be heavy upon you" (Job 33:6-7).

Realising that man cannot bridge the gulf that sin has made between himself and God, Job felt the need of a mediator. Christ alone meets this need. From Godhead glory He stooped to manhood in His indescribable grace. This enables Him to "lay His hand upon us both." But His incarnation could not of itself remove one single sin... Remission is impossible apart from blood. Accordingly the apostle adds: "Who gave Himself a ransom for all." The manger was a necessary step to the cross.

It is not that his conscience was bad; but he sees that, if God enters into judgment with His servant, no man living can be justified. His light would detect every fault, so that the clothes would shrink with horror from the wearer. Job therefore longs for an umpire or mediator between God and man, one who might lay his hands on both. Otherwise he is left in his weakness and failings before the awful, unbending, withering judgment of a Being so infinitely removed from him. If He would only remove His rod, he would not fear to speak; but he could not in his actual state.

He gets before God as Judge; and his perplexity is very great. He cannot answer God one in a thousand. "I am afraid of all my sorrows. I know that you will not hold me innocent." Poor Job! He does not know now which way to turn. And is not this the case with every believer the moment he gets before God as Judge? How can he or you be just before God? Would not one sin of a thousand utterly condemn you?

How clear it is that Job knew he was a sinful creature before his holy Creator, and that he had in himself no means of getting right. That being so, his only hope was the stepping in of a third party; but no such third party, or "daysman," was known to him. His three friends could not act the part, nor could any other man, since the daysman must be great enough to lay one of his hands upon Almighty God, and gracious enough to lay the other upon poor diseased and sinful Job.

What Job said he had not got is exactly what we have now in Christ. Was Christ a terror in this world? The law was this exactly. 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.

If only there were an effective go-between, how different it would be! But, says Job, "it is not so with me." Have we ever thanked God with enough warmth that it is so with us? The fact is that though he may not have known it, Job was longing for the coming of CHRIST. We can now rejoice in the "one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus" (1 Tim. 2:5). By Him the ransom price was paid, so that it is possible for a man to be just with God.

Though he would speak on God's behalf, he himself was a man, "formed of the clay," just as Job was. Job had said of God, "let not dread of him terrify me" (Job 9:34). Yet what this man had to say, as explaining God's ways, would bring no terror to Job's spirit. Just as our Lord Jesus became a Man, so bringing God to us without any sense of terror.

He began by acknowledging the rightness of God's disciplinary ways, but raised the all-important question, as to how a man could be right with God. In our day people use the short sentence, "Get right with God," to awaken interest in the gospel message. It might well provoke the reply, "Yes, but how is it to be achieved?" That is exactly the question Job asked in verse 2. The rest of the chapter shows how earnest and sincere he was in asking it, for he suggested and examined four possible answers. Each suggestion begins with an "If."

He knew that melted snow gives distilled water of the purest kind. Such water has the greatest power to absorb and remove defilement. The picture he used is vivid. If he achieved something like this in his own character and life, what then? Why, God would plunge him in a dirty ditch as the only fit place for him. And even then, he himself, beneath his clothes, would be dirtier than they! The defilement was in himself and not in his surroundings.

Job hints that there is no use in making any effort to clear himself. If he is already pronounced wicked, he tries in vain to convince God that he is not. All efforts to alter the judgment are useless. And oh — where is there a daysman, a mediator who could enter into judgment, laying his hands upon God and Job alike? Consumed with terror, Job cannot speak.

Job clearly knew that he was a sinful creature before his holy Creator. He also knew that he had no means in himself of getting right. So his only hope was that a third party would step in; but he knew of no such third party, no "daysman." His three friends could not fill the role, and neither could any other man. The daysman must be great enough to lay one of his hands upon Almighty God, and gracious enough to lay the other upon poor diseased and sinful Job.

If a court sets a day for a case, the daysman is the one who appears for me and takes up my cause. Not only has Christ come to me in my sins, but He has come to answer for me, taking up the whole cause. He has done it — settled the whole thing as to my sins, and is gone back to appear in the presence of God for me... I have given up trying to answer for myself: He has taken it up.

A sense of integrity, without the knowledge of righteousness, causes much misery in the heart. Job says, "Let not His fear terrify me." He had this fear. God has taken away the fear in Christ, and there is a daysman between us, such as Job felt the need of.

How moving are the words that close this chapter! If only there were an effective intermediary, how different it would be. But, says Job, "it is not so with me." Have we ever thanked God with enough warmth that it is so with us? The fact is that though he may not have known it, Job was sighing for the coming of Christ. We can now rejoice in the "one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus" (1 Tim. 2:5). He paid the ransom price, so that it is possible for a man to be just with God.