God Answers Job from the Storm

The wind rises. Dust whirls into the sky. A great storm sweeps across the land. And out of the heart of the storm, a voice speaks. Job has been waiting a long time for this. It is the voice of God.

Job had lost his wealth, his children and his health. His three friends had sat silently with him for a week. But then they started talking, and they kept on talking. You must have done something wrong, they said. God punishes the wicked. Confess, and all will be well. Job insisted he had not done anything to deserve this. He grieved, he protested, he cried out. He wished he could stand before God and ask him why. Round and round the arguments went, through chapter after chapter. Then, at last, the Lord answers Job out of the whirlwind.

God does not begin with an explanation. He begins with questions. Brace yourself like a man, he says. I will question you, and you will answer me. “Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?” Who measured it out? Who set its cornerstone, while the morning stars sang together and all the angels shouted for joy? Who shut the sea behind doors when it burst out of the womb, and said, this far you may come and no farther, here your proud waves must stop? Have you ever ordered the morning to begin? Have you walked in the deep places of the sea, or seen the storehouses of the snow?

The questions keep coming, and now they fill up with animals. Can you hunt prey for the lioness? Who feeds the young ravens when they cry out to God? Do you know when the mountain goats give birth? Who set the wild donkey free to roam? Look at the ostrich, flapping her wings. When she runs, she laughs at the horse and its rider. Look at the warhorse, leaping like a locust, snorting, laughing at fear. Does the hawk fly by your wisdom? Does the eagle build its nest high on the cliffs at your command? Job, so full of words before, has only a few now. I am small. How can I answer you? I put my hand over my mouth.

God speaks again, out of the storm. He describes two enormous creatures. Behemoth, with bones like bars of iron, resting calmly while the river rages around him. And Leviathan, a terrifying beast of the sea whom no hook can catch and no human can tame. If no one dares to stir him up, God asks, who then can stand before me? Then Job answers. I know that you can do all things. I spoke about things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me. “I have heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you.” And Job repents in dust and ashes.

Then God turns to Job's friends, and he is angry with them. You have not spoken of me what is right, as my servant Job has. They must bring an offering, and Job will pray for them. So Job, who had been so hurt by their words, prays for his friends. And after that, God restores Job's fortunes, giving him twice as much as he had before. His brothers, sisters and old friends come to eat with him and comfort him. Job has ten more children, seven sons and three daughters. His daughters are named Jemimah, Keziah and Keren-happuch, the most beautiful women in the land. Job lives to see four generations, and he dies old and full of days.

One small detail at the end of Job would have caught ancient ears. Job gives his daughters an inheritance alongside their brothers. In Israel's law, as the book of Numbers sets it out, daughters normally inherited land only when there were no sons. Job, who has seven sons, shares his inheritance with his daughters anyway. The book takes care to name them, while his sons go unnamed.

God Answers Job from the Storm. You'll find it in the book of Job, chapters 38 to 42. God never told Job why he had suffered. Instead he showed Job who he is, and that was enough for Job to trust him. The book doesn't say Job forgot his grief. But he had met God. So here's the question to carry with you. When you don't get the answers you want, what would it mean to trust the God who made the stars?