38:1–2 Is the poetry of these chapters, or their message, the best we have heard? Yes and yes. With lofty language, the great God of the universe, speaking from a storm (v. 1; cf. Ex. 19:16), highlights the mystery of the inexplicable way in which he rules an exceedingly complex world. He begins with a question to Job, one of his seventy or so unanswerable questions.162 The first is a tough, seemingly harsh, one: “Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?” (Job 38:2). God does not say, “Sorry, friend,” or “Hang in there—only a few more chapters to go.” Instead he puts his favorite human on trial. This is not “to humiliate or intimidate Job”163 but to open his eyes to the God that makes the Milky Way look like a stream in an Arabian wadi. God is in charge. He knows what he is doing. Divine wisdom is out of this world! Satan will not win. Good Job will glow in the end, after some more refining fire.

38:3–11 God’s forceful opening statement—“Dress for action like a man; I will question you, and you make it known to me” (v. 3)—must have startled Job, as much as it does the sympathetic reader. “Give Job a gospel tract,” we might say. “God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life!” No. Job is in the dock. He must prepare himself for the legal battle of his life.164 He will have to answer questions that God, the prosecuting attorney, knows that even the wisest human cannot answer:

    Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?

    Tell me, if you have understanding.

    Who determined its [all of creation’s] measurements—surely you know!

    Or who stretched the line upon it?

    On what were its bases sunk,

    or who laid its cornerstone,

    when the morning stars sang together

    and all the sons of God shouted for joy? (vv. 4–7)

Genesis 1 declares Job guilty. Job cannot possibly know how God created the earth (Job 38:4), the details of its dimensions (v. 5), the depths of its foundations (v. 6), or the first reaction of the highest constellations of heaven or the highest creation on earth.

With verses 8–11, the Bible’s first chapter is not done taking the stand. God asks Job if he has any idea who was in charge of the seven seas, making sure that the oceans, which first burst forth like a quickly delivered baby (v. 8), do not flood the land. God also asks how the clouds, which could flood the world completely in forty or so days, are restrained. The answer is God alone (the awesome I!):

    Or who shut in the sea with doors

    when it burst out from the womb,

    when I made clouds its garment

    and thick darkness its swaddling band,

    and prescribed limits for it

    and set bars and doors,

    and said, “Thus far shall you come, and no farther,

    and here shall your proud waves be stayed”? (vv. 8–11)

38:12–21 With all of these questions, God is seeking to teach Job that his understanding is insufficient. His statements, “Tell me, if you have understanding” (v. 4b) and “Declare, if you know all this” (v. 18b)—even the sarcastic ones (“surely you know!” v. 5a; “you know, for you were born then,” v. 21a)—are just as important as his questions. This son of pride (41:34b) needs to be put in his place.

The next set of questions (38:12–21) are also answered “no” in Job’s head. He has not ordered the sun to rise (“commanded the morning”/“caused the dawn”; v. 12). And as the sun spreads across the earth, bringing everything to light and exposing the earth’s various and diverse geological “features” (v. 14), Job cannot see what God sees. God sees all wickedness (“From the wicked their light is withheld”; v. 15a), in every imaginable hidden place on earth (“the skirts of the earth”; v. 13a), and judges it (“the wicked [are] shaken out of” the earth, v. 13b; “their uplifted arm is broken,” v. 15b). Job has not swum to the bottom of the ocean (“entered into the springs of the sea”/“walked in the recesses of the deep”; v. 16) to eye all of the exotic creatures and make sure the springs are still working. Job has talked a lot about death, but he knows nothing about its place or power (“the gates of death”/“deep darkness” have not “been revealed to” him; v. 17). Job cannot fathom how huge the earth is (“Have you comprehended the expanse of the earth?”; v. 18a). He probably thinks it is flat, with Uz as the center of the universe! Job does not know the sources of light or darkness (“the dwelling of light”/“the place of darkness”; v. 19; parallel thought in v. 20), or perhaps the sense is that he does not know where heaven and Sheol are. Job was surely not there (“you were born then,” v. 21, is sarcasm) when God’s voice pierced the “darkness . . . over the face of the deep”: “Let there be light” (Gen. 1:2, 3).

38:22–38 In these verses Job is asked to consider the sky, from the farthest stars to the closest clouds. He is to explain the weather (snow, hail, wind, thunder, lightning) and its effects on the ground (land, ice, frost, floods, dust). The main question to which Job has no answer is, “Do you know the ordinances of the heavens? Can you establish their rule on the earth?” (v. 33). As Job has no way of knowing how even his own human mind works (“Who has put wisdom in the inward parts or given understanding to the mind?”; v. 36), he certainly cannot grasp how God uses extreme weather to impact extreme situations (for example, when he releases the “storehouses” of “snow” and “hail” [v. 22] to help defeat the enemy—“I have reserved for the time of trouble, for the day of battle and war”; v. 23; cf. Ex. 9:22–26; Josh. 10:11; Isa. 30:30; Ezek. 13:11). Job cannot fly to the heavens to eye the place where lightning originates (“the light is distributed”; Job 38:24a) or walk back to the source from which “the east wind is scattered” all over the world (v. 24b). The unpredictable power of a storm is not under Job’s control. Nor is the rain. No human can perfectly predict where or when every storm (“a channel for the torrents of rain”/“a way for the thunderbolt”; v. 25) will hit. It might be in the middle of nowhere (“on a land where no man is”/“on the desert in which there is no man”; v. 26), or make grass grow in the desert, of all places (“to satisfy the waste and desolate land, and to make the ground sprout with grass”; v. 27)!

God alone is the father of rain (“Has the rain a father . . . ?”; v. 28a) and the mother (“who has begotten”/“from whose womb did . . . come forth . . . ?”; vv. 28b–29) of dew, ice, and frost. He determines the temperatures on land, even freezing a whole lake if he so desires (“the waters become hard like stone”/“the face of the deep is frozen”; v. 30). He orders and arranges the constellations (“bind the chains of the Pleiades”; “loose the cords of Orion”; “lead forth the Mazzaroth”; “guide the Bear with its children [i.e., Ursa Major and Ursa Minor]”; vv. 31–32). God also controls the countless clouds (“Who can number the clouds by wisdom?”; v. 37a). He can dictate where each bolt of lightning will strike (v. 35) and call forth rain (lift his “voice to the clouds, [so] that a flood of waters” comes, v. 34; “tilt the waterskins of the heavens,” v. 37b) during a drought (“when the dust runs into a mass”/“the clods stick fast together”; v. 38).

38:39–39:30 From speaking about cosmogony (38:4–21) and meteorology (38:22–38), God turns finally to zoology (38:39–39:30).165 This lesson centers on animals that man cannot tame, feed, see, or comprehend. The purpose of the lesson is the same as the lessons on cosmogony and meteorology: to remind Job that he is a man, not a god, and as a man his knowledge and power are quite limited. Not only are God’s ways higher than Job’s ways (cf. Isa. 55:9); his power is unsurpassable as well. Job cannot do all that God does. Job cannot provide food for the lion (“hunt the prey for the lion, . . . lie in wait in their thicket”; Job 38:39–40) or the raven (“provides for the raven its prey”; 38:41a) so they might provide for their young (“satisfy the appetite of the young lions,” 38:39b; the raven’s “young ones,” 38:41b), who “cry to God for help” because of their “lack of food” (38:41bc).

Job has no idea how to spy out the birth process of the elusive ibex166—when they give birth (“Do you know when the mountain goats give birth?”; 39:1a), how they do so (“Do you observe the calving of the does?” v. 1b; “when they crouch, bring forth their offspring,” 39:3a), how long they are pregnant (“Can you number the months that they fulfill . . . ?”; 39:2a), what season of the year that they usually give birth (“Do you know the time when they give birth?”; 39:2b), or what happens to their young soon after (“their young ones become strong; they grow up in the open; they go out and do not return to them”; 39:4).

Job cannot domesticate the wild donkey (39:5), who roams freely and swiftly throughout the wasteland (the “arid plain” is “his home,” the “salt land” is “his dwelling place,” 39:6; this refers to the salt flats by the Salt Sea; cf. Gen. 14:3), surviving on his own, even if he needs to roam the hills to find food (“he ranges the mountains as his pasture”/“he searches after every green thing”; Job 39:8). This wild beast will not let man be his master (“he scorns the tumult of the city; he hears not the shouts of the driver”; 39:7).

So too “the wild ox.” While man could harness the “great” strength of such a creature and use it to till the fields (“harrow the valleys”) and transport heavy goods to the “threshing floor” (39:10–12), this particular ox refuses to be enslaved. It is unwilling to “serve” man, even for one day (“spend the night at your manger”; 39:9). Again, the point here, as with all of the animals thus far and following, is to show Job that “Job is not in charge or control of the created order.”167

The ostrich is another example, an odd but important one. Among the animals in Job, only the warhorse (39:19–25) will receive more verses, and only one more.168 This is also the only section (39:13–18) with no rhetorical questions. God makes three statements about this strange creature. First, the ostrich seems useless. It has feathers (“the wings of the ostrich wave proudly”), but these aphrodisiac wings (“the pinions and plumage of love”; 39:13)169 do not help it to fly. Second, the ostrich seems stupid (“God has made her forget wisdom and given her no share in understanding”; 39:17). This stupidity is shown in how she treats her young. Since she cannot fly, she is not like the eagle, who leaves her offspring in a safe high place. Instead, she “leaves her eggs [on] the earth” (39:14a) or slightly buried in the sand. This, of course, makes them vulnerable. Anyone or anything might step on them (“a foot may crush them”/“the wild beast may trample them”; 39:15), or a human hunter could grab them or a beastly predator devour them. This seems both cruel (“she deals cruelly with her young, as if they were not hers”; 39:16) and stupid. How will her species survive? But her ignorance is bliss (“though her labor be in vain, yet she has no fear”; 39:16b). God has made her this way (39:17). And still her species survives, and even thrives. Third, part of her survival relates to her unique (and humorous!) maneuverability and uncanny ability to flee from trouble (39:18). While the ostrich cannot dive at the speed of an eagle (100 mph/160 kmph), it can run half that speed, faster than anything on two legs. It can even outrun some incredibly fast four-legged creatures, such as the horse (39:18; see 39:19–25) and even the lion (38:39–40). It certainly would leave the mountain goat (39:1–4), wild donkey (39:5–8), and wild ox (39:9–12) in the dust.

These three ideas are important to Yahweh’s pedagogical purposes. Why would God create such a creature? The existence of the awkward, ugly, and odd ostrich is a visual reminder that God’s ways are mysterious and is a rebuttal of the retribution principle’s tidy system of theology. There is nothing logical about this powerful but silly bird. Like the Leviathan (41:29), this strange creature “laughs” (39:18). Perhaps they both laugh at theology like that of Eliphaz, Zophar, Bildad, Elihu, and, even in part, Job.

From the ostrich eluding a fast horse (39:18), Yahweh turns to the horse itself. He asks Job if Job is responsible for giving such an amazing creature its “might” (39:19a), its “mane” (39:19b), its ability to jump (“leap like the locust”; 39:20a), or its imposing and fearsome sounds (“his majestic snorting is terrifying”; 39:20b). The implied answer is, “Of course not.” Then God further describes this fierce beast in battle. With his hoofs digging in the ground (“he paws in the valley”; 39:21a), he rushes into battle (“he goes out to meet the weapons”; 39:21b). With each step he smiles at his strength (“and exults in his strength”; 39:21a). He is fearless (“he laughs at fear and is not dismayed”) of the fight ahead (“he does not turn back from the sword”; 39:22). This warhorse is armed for war (“upon him rattle the quiver, the flashing spear, and the javelin”; 39:23). The charge has sounded; he has heard the horn. “When the trumpet sounds, he says ‘Aha!’” (39:25a). He races ahead with an almost reckless courage.170 “With fierceness and rage he swallows the ground; he cannot stand still at the sound of the trumpet” (39:24). Snorting, he kicks up the dirt. He hears the battle cry (“the thunder of the captains, and the shouting”; 39:25c), smells the bloody battle ahead (“he smells the battle from afar”; 39:25b), and races ahead. This imposing and terrifying animal may be tamed by man but is also dangerous to man, both as it attacks the enemy and as its rider gallops to the fight. It lives on the brink of being an uncontrollable force. When “plunging headlong into battle,” it can steer its “own course” (Jer. 8:6). Only a powerful God could create such a powerful creature and know how to rein it in.

Next, and finally for God’s first speech, we have the “hawk” (Job 39:26) and the “eagle” (39:27–30), symbolizing the “epitome of avian animals.”171 Who can harness the hawk? Who can eye the eagle? Certainly not Job. God returns Job’s vision to the sky (cf. 38:9–38). Look up! Regarding both birds, Yahweh asks two rhetorical questions followed by a description that fits them both. It is only by God’s “understanding that the hawk soars and spreads his wings toward the south” (39:26) and by his “command that the eagle mounts up and makes his nest on high” (39:27). Job has not taught these amazing birds to fly, soaring so far above the earth.

Up high, on the “rocky crag,” they live (39:28). The eagle lives not in inaccessible light but at an inaccessible height.172 Job cannot fly; he cannot climb to these heights to pet their young. He did not even coach them in how to build their amazing nests (their “stronghold”; 39:28b). From these heights, these birds of prey see their prey. An eagle can see a rabbit running 3 miles (4.8 km) away! “From there he spies out the prey; his eyes behold it from far away” (39:29). It dives. The rabbit or rodent does not have a chance. Going a 100 miles (160 km) an hour, this big and burly bird grabs its main course, uses its hard beak to kill, and returns home to feed the whole family (“his young ones suck up blood”; 39:30a). Other times, roadkill will do for dinner (“and where the slain are, there is he”; 39:30; cf. Matt. 24:28//Luke 17:37).

Again, why does God bring before Job’s eyes these birds? Estes summarizes the point perfectly: “The hawk and the eagle demonstrate that there is much in Yahweh’s design for the world that humans do not know or control.”173 Moreover, the eagle dovetails (no pun intended) with the first creature named, a lion. As Job cannot stakeout a meal for the king of the jungle (Job 38:39), so can he not tell the queen of the heavens where to find food. This is an inclusio of ignorance. Job is not God. Job cannot fathom even a few behaviors of some of the amazing and mysterious creatures of the earth and sky. (How will he fare with the monster of the sea? See 41:1–34.) If Job is still standing, he should not be. He should be on his knees by now.

40:1–5 Is Job on his knees? Face down? He is. If not literally, then at least metaphorically. What gets him in this humble position is everything that God has said from 38:2 to 39:30. But what also gets him there is Yahweh’s final rebuke: “And the Lord said to Job: ‘Shall a faultfinder contend with the Almighty? He who argues with God, let him answer it’” (40:1–2). Job now understands that he should not seek to call God to court, accuse him, or correct him. God should not be schooled in wisdom. Smallness and silence are the appropriate responses:

Then Job answered the Lord and said:

    “Behold, I am of small account; what shall I answer you?

    I lay my hand on my mouth.

    I have spoken once, and I will not answer;

    twice, but I will proceed no further.” (vv. 3–5)

Elihu might have taken on a John-the-Baptist role in that he prepared the way for the Lord’s speech, but Job here takes on John’s humble position before Jesus (cf. Matt. 3:11). Job is not worthy to be in the Lord’s presence. Adding his own “behold” (see Elihu’s sixteen previous “beholds”), the greatest man of the east grasps that he is not so great compared to God (“I am of small account”; Job 40:4a). Then, as Alden puts it, “With a rhetorical question of his own [v. 4b], Job replied that he could not answer any of the questions.”174 Job has given up the idea of a court case, with himself featured as the spectacular prosecuting attorney against God, masterfully defending himself. He has spoken here, even though he said he would not speak. He is dazed, confused; he covers his mouth (“I lay my hand on my mouth”; v. 4b). He has said enough.

There is no acknowledgement of sin here. Job does not say, “Oh, the four friends were right. I have offended God.” Job likely feels stuck. He knows that some secret sin has not led to his circumstances. Yet he now also knows that he spoke too much and without a better grasp of things. He regrets some of what he has said; he understands that he does not understand the mystery of God’s workings in the world, and he acknowledges that he has overstepped his rank. He is hoping the ordeal will soon be over, but he is willing to sit on the ash heap a few hours more if Yahweh will condescend to speak with him and to him.

40:6–14 Again (see 38:1), “out of the whirlwind” God speaks (“the Lord answered Job . . . and said”; 40:6). Also, as in 38:3, God begins with the same command to Job (“dress for action like a man”) and declaration (“I will question you, and you make it known to me”; 40:7). What is different in the short forewords to these two speeches is that God’s first question in the second one comes after, not before (as in 38:2, “Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?”), that command and that declaration. In 40:8–9, God asks Job three penetrating questions:

    Will you even put me in the wrong?

    Will you condemn me that you may be in the right?

    Have you an arm like God,

    and can you thunder with a voice like his? (vv. 8–9)

Again, a negative answer is implied to all three questions. To the first two we can imagine Job saying, “Not anymore,” and to the third, “No.” Job is learning not only that he is not as powerful as God (he does not have as strong an “arm” or as thunderous a “voice”; v. 9; cf. Ps. 44:1–3) but also that he has been wrong to put God “in the wrong” (Job 40:8a), to defame God’s name (“will you condemn me”; cf. 9:24; 27:2) in order to clear his own (“that you may be in the right?”; 40:8b). “He was more concerned with his own reputation for righteousness than he was with God’s reputation for justice.”175

Next, with ten imperatives God challenges Job to be God. First, Yahweh calls him to exist like God: to “adorn” himself “with majesty [gaʼon] and dignity [gobah],” to “clothe” himself “with glory [hod] and splendor [hadar]” (v. 10; cf. Elihu’s “God is clothed with awesome majesty,” 37:22). Second, he repeatedly challenges Job to judge justly like God—to condemn the proud (“pour out . . . your anger,” 40:11a; “abase him,” v. 11b; “bring him low,” v. 12a; “tread down the wicked,” v. 12b; “hide them all in the dust,” v. 13a; “bind their faces in the world below,” v. 13b). If Job were able to exist and act like God, then God would be happy to let Job go on with his suggestion of a court trial in which God hears all of his defenses and answers all of his questions. God will even acknowledge that he is not needed. Job can save himself. “Then will I also acknowledge to you that your own right hand can save you” (v. 14). Of course, the point is that Job needs to realize afresh that God alone can save him.

40:15–24 In 38:39–39:30 God paraded the lion, raven, mountain goat, wild donkey, wild ox, ostrich, warhorse, hawk, and eagle. In 40:15–41:34 he takes Job face to face with the two fiercest creatures in the world. In 40:15 he begins, “Behold, Behemoth!” What is this creature? Who has heard of “Behemoth” (Hb. behemot)?176 On one hand, it is possible that this is a hippopotamus, as the following description seems to fit (esp. vv. 20–24), and hippopotamuses were known to have existed in the ancient Near East,177 especially in lower Egypt.178 On the other hand, Behemoth could be a mythical beast.179 However, the opening line, in which God speaks of creating this creature as he did man (“I made as I made you”; v. 15b) and which follows nine literal animals in chapters 38–39, favors the view that a hippopotamus is in view.180

At first glance, the hippopotamus merely resembles the ox. “He eats grass like an ox” (40:15c). He is extremely strong. Not only is his backside formidable (“his strength in his loins”), so too is his stomach (“his power in the muscles of his belly”; v. 16), and his massive legs look indestructible (“the sinews of his thighs are knit together”; v. 17b). Even his tail appears powerful (“he makes his tail stiff like a cedar”; v. 17a)!181 Both on the outside (vv. 16–17) and the inside he is formidable.

The animal has muscles of steel and bones of bronze—who could conquer such a beast? Humans cannot hurt him. He ranks “first” among the “works of God” (v. 19a, i.e., the greatest among the great beasts of the land); only Yahweh, who brought him to life, has the power to take his life (“let him who made him bring near his sword!”; v. 19b). Behemoth is strong, but not stronger than God! “Unafraid, Yahweh can approach Behemoth with his sword,” thus symbolizing “his complete mastery of this beast.”182 Only God is his king.

But God does not slay him; rather, he provides for him. Even the mighty mountains bring him his meals (“the mountains yield food for him”; v. 20a). The sense, of course, is that this enormous beast climbs the hills (the banks of the Nile?) at night in search of a late-night gorge. His midnight playground is “where all the wild beasts play” (v. 20b). But he fears them not. What can they do to him? This nocturnal herbivore spends some of the day relaxing riverside (“under the [Zizyphus] lotus plants he lies”; v. 21a) but most of the day submerged in the swamp-like waters (“in the shelter of the reeds and in the marsh. For his shade the lotus trees cover him; the willows of the brook surround him”; vv. 21b–22).183

This three-ton beast does not sink.184 He does not feed on aquatic plants or animals. Bull sharks are not his diet. The Hippopotamus amphibius eats only grass! Amazing. Strange. How does that work? How does he remain so strong? How does he maintain his weight? How does he assure that his body armor stays indestructible? And, strangest of all (it receives a “behold”!), how on earth does he swim?

    Behold, if the river is turbulent he is not frightened;

    he is confident though Jordan rushes against his mouth. (v. 23)

He is not afraid of the wild beasts at night. During the day, he is not afraid of any raging river (even the “Jordan” River or the Nile River when it floods). By running underwater, he can swim! And this plump, round giant can swim faster than any svelte and successful Olympian ever dreamed (30 mph [48 kmph] bursts, compared with 6 mph [10 kmph]!). The big bird in the sky (the eagle) and the fat mammal in the marsh can do what man could never do.

This comparison with man concludes the portrait of Behemoth. Man cannot catch him (cf. 41:2, 7, 26).

    Can one take him by his eyes,

    or pierce his nose with a snare? (40:24)

We might picture the huge and heavy hippopotamus smiling with his twenty-inch teeth as some man tries to catch him like a trout. Again (see v. 19), the point is that only God could capture him, if he wanted. But why would he want to? Such a beast boasts of his greatness!

41:1–34 Here God speaks of Leviathan, a sea creature Job was aware of (3:8; cf. “Rahab,” 9:13; 26:12). The purpose of putting Behemoth and Leviathan before Job’s eyes is to help Job “realize that Yahweh totally controls all threats to his order” and that “compared with the Lord, Job has paltry knowledge and feeble power.”185 Or, in Yahweh’s own words, it is to teach Job that “whatever is under the whole heaven is mine” (41:11b), and that even the fierce, powerful, and seemingly uncontrollable and unconquerable Leviathan cannot “stand before” him (v. 10b). Leviathan might be the king of all creatures (v. 34b), but God is king over all creatures.

Like Behemoth, it is difficult to know if Leviathan is some real or mythical creature. However, as it is likely that Behemoth is a hippopotamus, it is also possible that Leviathan is a crocodile. While there is some evidence for this claim, it is not easy to prove. We think, however, that the point God has been making since 38:39 depends on the animals listed being real animals and not mythical creatures (e.g., Leviathan is like the Canaanite’s seven-headed Lotan) or mere symbols (e.g., the “embodiment of cosmic evil itself”186 or of “chaotic forces of evil”187). In what ways is an incredible sea creature more symbolic of “evil” than the lion or eagle devouring their innocent prey, or the warhorse smelling the blood of battle?

The Leviathan is, however, special. Thus Yahweh saves him for last, offers him the longest description of any creature (thirty-four verses), and concludes climactically with two statements about this creature: “On earth there is not his like” (41:33a) and “he is king over all the sons of pride” (v. 34b). Perhaps it is best to read verses 1–34 and think “this is a crocodile” but allow our imaginations to envision a hybrid of a saltwater crocodile and whatever other creature—the White Whale, the Loch Ness Monster, or the smug Smaug—we find most ferocious.

The description of Leviathan begins with the humorous idea of men trying to fish him out of the waters and raise him as a pet. Imagine baiting a “fishhook” with some wallaby (v. 1a). Then, as the mighty monster jumps out of the water and devours the bait, the hook lodges inside its mouth and its tongue is “pressed down by the rope tied to the hook”188 (“press down his tongue with a cord”; v. 1b). Finally, via a “rope” through “his nose” and a “hook” through “his jaw” (v. 2), he is dragged to the shore. This feat in and of itself is as unlikely as a boy catching a killer whale with a toy fishing rod. And it is foolish. Who in the world is brave enough to hunt him (“no one is so fierce that he dares to stir him up”; v. 10a)? But, if we play along, we can next imagine man’s relationship with this captured beast.

Will Leviathan beg for mercy (“make many pleas to you”/“speak to you soft words”; v. 3)? No! Will he admit defeat and offer himself as a bondslave for life (“make a covenant with you to take him for your servant forever”; v. 4)? No! Will he eventually be so domesticated that he would become like a dove (“will you play with him as with a bird”) or a collie (“will you put him on a leash for your girls?”; v. 5)? “A girl leading on a leash a crocodile that may weigh as much as a ton is a whimsical if not absurd scene.”189

God is leading Job from one absurd idea to another. In verse 6, another humorous picture is put in his sight. Who can imagine merchants in the afternoon fish market bargaining over Leviathan (“Will traders bargain over him?”) or trying to divide (“Will they divide him up?”; v. 6) his indestructible flesh (see vv. 13, 15–17, 23, 26–30) into little pieces for sushi? Then, taking us back to the opening scene (vv. 1–2), God calls the whole scenario he has depicted in verses 1–6 absurd. Can one really fish for Leviathan: “fill his skin with harpoons or his head with fishing spears” (v. 7)? As soon as you try to get him out of the water and “lay your hands on him,” you might not have hands left. It will be a day you will not forget (“remember the battle”) and an act of such stupidity that “you will not do it again!” (v. 8). The idea of even bringing this creature out of the waters (let alone to the market!) is an optimism of idiocy (“the hope of a man is false”; v. 9a). The mere sight of him raising his head in the waters (“when he raises himself up, the mighty are afraid”; v. 25a) or of his wake in the waters (v. 32) is enough to make even the proudest hunter shake in his boots (“he is laid low even at the sight of him”; v. 9b). Leviathan is “so fierce that” no one is foolish enough to fish for him, let alone come near him (“dares to stir him up”; v. 10a).

In verses 10b–11 God gives the reason for this imaginary fishing expedition: it is to remind Job that he should not be stirring up God and that he is not in a position to stand toe to toe with God, whether it be in some court of law or even face to face. Two reasons are given. First, God is the creator and sustainer of the world (“Who has first given to me, that I should repay him?”; v. 11a). Second, God is sovereign over all creation (“whatever is under the whole heaven”—white tigers, brown snakes, black widows, the nearly invisible box jellyfish, etc.—“is mine”; v. 11b). God cannot be challenged. God has no equal (cf. Rom. 11:33–36). Even the most deadly animals are his pets!

In Job 41:12–24, Yahweh provides an extended inventory of Leviathan’s anatomy (cf. the short description of Behemoth; 40:16–18). “I will not keep silence concerning his limbs, or his mighty strength, or his goodly frame” (41:12). The inventory of his strong body begins with his skin and mouth (vv. 13–17). His skin is like a double coat of mail armor (“who can strip off his outer garment?” v. 13a; also later, “the folds of his flesh stick together, firmly cast on him and immovable,” v. 23), with a thousand or so tile-like pieces of impenetrable metal interlocking together, sealed with inseparable superglue:

    His back is made of rows of shields, [“His scales are his pride,” KJV; cf. NASB]

    shut up closely as with a seal.

    One is so near to another

    that no air can come between them.

    They are joined one to another;

    they clasp each other and cannot be separated. (vv. 15–17)

The only opening is his mouth. But that is not the safest place to attempt an attack! No one would dare try to put a bridle around his head (“Who would come near him with a bridle?”; v. 13b). He is not a docile pony. He is not even a half-tamed warhorse. Moreover, how would one even open this beast’s mighty jaws to set the mask in place (“Who can open the doors of his face?”; v. 14a)? And if some man could open them, watch out! Leviathan’s greatest weapon awaits: “around his teeth is terror” (v. 14b).190 His seventy-plus sharp and strong teeth can kill incredibly large animals, fish, and birds. That is not all. Out of his mouth comes fire!

    His sneezings flash forth light,

    and his eyes are like the eyelids of the dawn.

    Out of his mouth go flaming torches;

    sparks of fire leap forth.

    Out of his nostrils comes forth smoke,

    as from a boiling pot and burning rushes.

    His breath kindles coals,

    and a flame comes forth from his mouth. (vv. 18–21)

Here is where the anatomical description fails to describe a crocodile, resembling more the long list of mythological dragons of the ancient world. However, it might be that of an extinct crocodile-like creature, one for which we have no fossil record. And even if we had some scientific record, how would we know for certain if the creature could breathe fire? It might also be that verses 18–21 are metaphors for the way in which a crocodile roams the water (“Its nostrils squirt spray that becomes translucent in the light [41:18]. . . . Spray from its mouth looks like fire in the sunshine [41:19]”191); “When this creature sneezes, the water spray sparkles in the sunlight like flashes of light,” and “when this creature emerges from the water, it spews out its pent-up breath in a steaming spray that appears like sparks of fire or like smoke from a boiling pot.”192 Verses 20–21 might also describe the aftermath of a crocodile killing its prey. As he descends back into the waters, a captured bird or animal is totally incinerated (i.e., devoured, without a trace) within seconds!

A metaphorical reading also fits the context. The parallel line to “His sneezings flash forth light” (v. 18a) is a metaphor about his thin, black pupil set against reddish-green eyes resembling the morning sun peaking over the horizon (“and his eyes are like the eyelids of the dawn”; v. 18b). Moreover, there is hardly a line that is not a metaphor in verses 12–32.193 For example, verses 18–21 are followed by verse 22, where “terror dances before him” (this is as metaphorical as it gets!) as his neck breaks the prey into pieces (“in his neck abides strength”; v. 22). Also, in verse 24 this cold-blooded and hard-hearted killer (“his heart is hard as a stone, hard as the lower millstone”)194 with his safely protected chest could not care less if he is consuming his own children or a man’s wife.

In verses 25–32 Yahweh returns to the crazy notion of humans’ trying to attack the super creature of the sea. In verses 1–2 we have a depiction of a man using fishing gear to catch this beast. Stupidity of stupidity. In verses 25–32 man employs weapons of war: the sword, spear, dart, javelin, arrow, sling stones, and clubs. Better idea; same results. Not only is Leviathan’s back covered in bone (osteoderms) that look like spears, his belly is like hard and jagged stones (“his underparts are like sharp potsherds,” v. 30; “sharp stones are under him,” KJV). The spear can reach him under the waters, but it does not avail against his thick skin (v. 26). The sword then? No. Chop off his head when he raises it above the waters? A sword might easily cut off a man’s head, but not Leviathan’s. His neck is massive and strong (v. 22a). Can something be thrown from a distance? Sure. But, why lose valuable iron and bronze spears, darts, javelins, and arrows? They bounce off him like straw and rotten wood (v. 27). “He laughs at the rattle of javelins” (v. 29b).195 How about King David’s slingshot? This may work against Goliath of the Canaanites but not against Samson of the Deep. When stones strike his body, they turn to nothing—“stubble” (the short and stiff stumps of grain left after harvesting). Baseball bats too (“clubs are counted as stubble”; v. 29a).

What then? Nothing. Even the mightiest men tremble when they see him (“when he raises himself up, the mighty are afraid”); they turn green and yellow when he splashes beside the boat (“at the crashing they are beside themselves”; v. 25). Watch him laugh in the mire, crying his crocodile tears, and rubbing his belly against the mud of the earth’s rivers and seas (“he spreads himself like a threshing sledge on the mire”; v. 30b). As his “fire” shows itself on the surface (vv. 19–21), so he makes the underbelly of the sea shake, rattle, roll, and boil(!) when he swims by (“he makes the deep boil” like a pot of tea, or like someone brewing the newest perfume [a “pot of ointment”; v. 31]). He leaves a boastful wake above the surface (“behind him he leaves a shining wake”; v. 32a) and turns the dark sea white as he speeds through the waters (“one would think the deep to be white-haired”; v. 32b).

Among all creatures of the “earth” (or “dust,” Hb. ʻapar), no creature is as inimitable (“on earth there is not his like”) or intrepid (“a creature without fear”; v. 33). What Martin Luther said of the Devil, we might say of Leviathan: “on earth is not his equal” (from “A Mighty Fortress”). Indeed, this beast is like the beast of Revelation 13:4 (“Who is like the beast, and who can fight against it?”). Every arrogant creature from the blue peafowl of Sri Lanka to the Siamese cat to fallen Homo sapiens knows that Leviathan is the “king over all the sons of pride” (Job 41:34b).

42:1–6 The only appropriate response to this fearless creature is to fear its awesome Creator (28:28). Stop complaining; stay the avowals of innocence; submit. “Yahweh is thus calling Job to decide whether to argue his case and lose or submit to Yahweh, accepting in trust the blessing and the curse, the riches and the ash heap.”196 Job’s final answer (“Job answered”; 42:1, with the context of his answer in vv. 2–6) is as remarkable as his first (1:20–21). He trusts God atop the garbage dump.

As Christopher Ash summarizes: “Job’s response is in three parts. He speaks of something he now knows, of things he did not know, and supremely of one he has now seen.”197 First, he states how he now knows, or knows afresh, that God “can do all things,” or, put differently, that “no purpose of yours can be thwarted” (42:2). Job has acknowledged God as “the Almighty” many times (6:4, 14; 13:3; 21:15, 20; 23:16; 24:1; 27:2, 10, 11, 13; 29:5, 31:2). Now he acknowledges that Yahweh really is all-mighty. Second, Job acknowledges that there is a major knowledge gap between himself and God. To God’s question, “Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?” (38:2, repeated here by Job in 42:3a, with two slight variations), Job speaks of speaking sophomorically. He has “uttered what” he “did not understand/know,” concepts beyond his comprehension (“things too wonderful for me”; v. 3). Third, having heard clearly God’s challenges to him (“Hear, and I will speak; I will question you, and you make it known to me”; v. 4, echoing 38:3; 40:7), Job speaks of seeing what God wants him to see, or really seeing God for more of who God is. God is bigger than Job imagined. He is greater than the traditions he has heard. Yahweh makes Leviathan look little and Behemoth brittle. This perception of reality and aural vision of the Reality causes him to tremble, tremble, tremble and to change his mind and turn away from previous thoughts and postures:

    I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear,

    but now my eye sees you;

    therefore I despise myself,

    and repent in dust and ashes. (42:5–6).

Here we have the repentance of the righteous. In these verses Job pours out his heart, contritely confessing that he has spoken beyond his knowledge. Job misjudged God, and for this he recants of his accusations. In self-humiliation, he retracts his case against God and despises himself for the abusive words he has foolishly hurled at God.198 Job had never questioned God’s power but had challenged God’s seeming indifference. Now Job submits himself to the God who has appeared to him by acknowledging that God is lovingly involved in the operations of an exceedingly complex universe. Job admits that compared with the omniscience of God, he has drawn his conclusions from a limited examination of life. What Job now comprehends is that God and his mysterious providence are too wonderful to comprehend, and human perceptions of justice are not the scales upon which the righteousness of God is weighed. What he finally grasps is that “God has an inescapable purpose in whatever he does,”199 even if that inescapable purpose is never revealed to the creatures it affects. Job finally sees clearly that he cannot see clearly!

Through God’s two speeches Job was given neither a bill of indictment nor a verdict of innocence; rather, he was given eyes to see the greatness of God. He sees now “with, not through, the eye” (William Blake) in such a way that the apparent madness of God becomes his only sanity. In the presence of God, all of his complaints against God now seem insignificant. His intellectual problem remains unsolved, but unimportant.200 For, still in the midst of extreme pain, Job is spiritually healed by the revelation of God. He sings upon the ashes that his Redeemer lives!