When Creation Teaches of the Creator

When Job demands answers from God, he’s met not with explanations, but with awe. In this powerful sermon, we explore how God responds from the storm, lifting Job’s eyes from suffering to the wonder, wisdom, and wildness of creation. Discover how God’s care is both cosmic and personal, and why we are never alone, even in the chaos.

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The word of the Lord is being read from the Book of Job, Chapter 38, verses 1 to 21.

Then the Lord spoke to Job out of the storm. He said,
Who is this that obscures my plans with words without knowledge?
Brace yourself like a man; I will question you, and you shall answer me.
Where were you when I laid the earth's foundation? Tell me, if you understand.
Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know. Who stretched a measuring line across it?
On what were its footings set, or who laid its cornerstone—
while the morning stars sang together and all the angels shouted for joy?
Who shut up the sea behind doors when it burst forth from the womb,
when I made the clouds its garment and wrapped it in thick darkness;
when I fixed limits for it and set its doors and bars in place,
when I said, “This far you may come and no farther; here is where your proud waves halt”?
Have you ever given orders to the morning or shown the dawn its place,
that it might take the earth by the edges and shake the wicked out of it?
The earth takes shape like clay under a seal; its features stand out like those of a garment.
The wicked are denied their light, and their upraised arm is broken.
Have you journeyed to the springs of the sea or walked in the recesses of the deep?
Have the gates of death been shown to you? Have you seen the gates of the deepest darkness?
Have you comprehended the vast expanses of the earth? Tell me, if you know all this.
What is the way to the abode of light? And where does darkness reside?
Can you take them to their places? Do you know the paths to their dwellings?
Surely you know, for you were already born! You have lived so many years.

Good morning everyone.

We could probably have some light, I think. It might help you. I don't know if it'll make you go to sleep or not, but anyway.

We are looking at, actually, four chapters in Job today, although we just had the start read. If you've got a Bible or something on your phone, you're welcome to follow along. But a lot of the material I'll have up on the screen or read out for us.

Let's pray. Lord, we thank you for the richness of your word. And we thank you, Lord, that your kindness to us is in revealing who you are, who we are, and our place in this creation.

We thank you, Lord, for your goodness to us this morning and every day, in providing all that we need for life and showing us the way to salvation through Your Son, Jesus Christ. We pray that you'd open our hearts today to all that you would say to us in Your Word by Your Holy Spirit. Amen.

Left on Read with God

Well, the young people have an expression: to be left on read. It means that you've sent a message to someone and they have clearly seen it.

A read receipt has come through. It says delivered and read in whatever, you know, WhatsApp or Messenger or whatever. But they have not responded.

So it's not like, you know, they haven't seen the message. Oh, they've seen it. But something about their life — your message, your priority in their life — means that you've been left on read.

Well, at this point in the book of Job, Job is feeling like he is left on read with God. We've had speeches back and forth. We've had lots of human words. But in all the chapters between chapter 3 and 37, we've not had a word from God.

Job has been crying out to God because of his suffering. All that he has lost, the changes in his life. Everything good that he had seems to have been taken away.

And he believes that God is in charge of the world, and so he cannot understand the justice behind a righteous man such as himself receiving such terrible treatment at the hands of a good God. He had done good. Why had he not experienced good in his life?

And he knew that he did not deserve this suffering, this change in his fortunes. So why was God doing it?

He cries out to God. In fact, more than just sending God a message, he's actually longing to take God to court, if you like.

He's kind of moving from just messages between friends to an episode of Law and Order. He is in the courtroom and he is crying out for God — the defendant and the judge — to answer him.

So you actually see lots of courtroom imagery throughout the whole book of Job. We see at the beginning God, the heavenly Judge on the throne, and the angels coming before Him. The accuser comes and says, What is the justice in this man's life? You are saying he is worshiping you and being righteous, and yet he has so much. It's unjust. He doesn't really love you for you; it's because of all the stuff he's got.

And so the whole scenario of Job's change in life and his suffering is set up in this sort of courtroom assembly. But Job himself then starts to style himself as a plaintiff in a court case, calling out to God to take his case and also to answer him as his opposition.

He longs for there to be someone — a witness, an arbiter, a mediator in the courtroom between him and God. And actually, when he calls for a Redeemer and says, I know there must be someone, he's still using this picture. I want someone to stand on my side, to be my legal advocate. To provide what I need. As I stand before God the Judge.

God Speaks from the Storm

So when we come to God speaking in chapter 38, we actually see God begin His own cross-examination of Job. God speaks. And yes, He will engage in this courtroom scene and these questions of justice.

Now, what He says in answer to Job's complaints may be very unexpected. But when we see the beginning of chapter 38, we can imagine exactly a defense attorney standing there saying, Brace yourself. Are you ready for my questions?

So God answers Job. In our NIV translation, we just have, “Then the Lord spoke to Job.” That's appropriate. I'm not a Hebrew scholar, but what I do know is that there's a difference between the way that God speaks here and the way God has spoken the only other times we've seen Him speak (in chapters 1 and 2).

In chapters 1 and 2, God speaks to the Satan — the accuser, the adversary — and He does not... (the Hebrew doesn't use the normal everyday sort of reply form of the word). It's not like this is a dialogue between God and Satan. Satan says something and God speaks, but He doesn't "reply" in the sense that they are equals.

Here, however, the language is back to normal. God answers Job, as you and I would answer or reply to one another in conversation. He has now brought Himself into dialogue with Job. Not that either one's character or essence has changed, but that God is willing to have a conversation with this human being. Face to face.

But it's not really face to face. It's not equal. God speaks to Job out of the storm. Throughout the book of Job, Job has been using this imagery of God Himself.

You might have heard that we are expecting a "weather bomb" off the east coast of Australia this coming week. And you think to yourself, Ah, do you need to just really escalate this imagery? It'll probably be quite rainy and windy.

However, the picture of God speaking out of the storm is that escalated "weather bomb" language. This is power. This is threat.

And Job knows this about God, because Job has used this language of Him before. In that first courtroom scene in chapter 9, when he's saying, “You're the Judge — I want to bring my case before You. But I feel so powerless. If He does come to me, He would crush me with a storm and multiply my wounds for no reason.”

And then, towards the end of the speeches, just before the final human arbiter (Elihu) speaks, Job says to God, “You snatch me up and drive me before the wind; You toss me about in the storm.”

Elihu, in his speeches (before God finally speaks in answer), says this too about God: “His thunder announces the coming storm.”

All the threat that you experience when a weather bomb is on its way... This is the power and holiness and otherness of the great God of the universe.

But God, out of His great power and otherness, does not destroy Job when He speaks to him out of the storm. He says, “Who is this that obscures My plans with words without knowledge? Brace yourself like a man. Like a warrior. I will question you, and you shall answer Me.”

And so we wonder, what will God say in response to Job's suffering and his request for justice? Will He go into the explanation of Satan coming before God in chapters 1 and 2? Will He say, Actually, you weren’t as righteous as you thought. Everybody gets tough times? What is He going to say?

The Vastness of Creation

Well, God begins His answer to Job by lifting his eyes to the vastness of creation. He lifts Job’s eyes above Job’s own human story, and He tells Job just how vast and indescribable — how unfathomable and transcendent — God really is.

He begins by saying, “Were you there when I laid the earth’s foundation?”

He pictures Himself as a builder and an architect. He says, “Were you there? Who marked off its dimensions? Who stretched a measuring line across it? Did you lay the concrete footings? No, I did that.”

And more than just doing a building for you humans. This was set in a vast heavenly realm: “...the morning stars sang together and all the angels shouted for joy.”

God doesn't give a lot of insights into the heavenly realm in these chapters, but it's always there — God's ways are ancient, transcendent. There were beings around before you, and they are truly beyond our comprehension.

“Have you ever given orders to the morning? Have you journeyed to the springs of the sea and walked in the recesses of the deep?” (Maybe the Mariana Trench, or whatever it's called — something I learned from Octonauts.) “What is the way to the abode of light? Have you entered the storehouses of the snow, or seen the storehouses of hail, which I reserve for times of trouble? Does the rain have a father? From whose womb comes the ice?”

“Can you bind the chains of Pleiades or loosen Orion's belt?” (He's talking about the stars.) “Can you bring forth the constellations in their seasons and lead out the Bear with its cubs?” (That's referring to a constellation.) “Can you raise your voice to the clouds? Do you send the lightning bolts on their way?”

God's ways are ancient and transcendent and truly beyond our comprehension. Science may get us so far, but a lot of what we observe, we still not — we are still not able to say why or how and for what purpose. But God knows. And God has been in this business for an awfully long time.

God's Intricate Care for Creation

But He also then says — moving from this large picture down to an intricate care picture. He says:

• Who gives the ibis wisdom?

• Who gives the rooster understanding?

• Do you hunt the prey for the lioness and satisfy the hunger of the lions?

• Who provides food for the raven when its young cry out to God and wander about for lack of food?

• Do you know when the mountain goats give birth?

• Do you watch when the doe bears her fawn?

God knows. God's knowledge of creation is far greater than human knowledge, and it's intricate and caring. And you might notice that these animals and birds mentioned are not ones that humans domesticate or find useful.

They aren't God speaking about the cattle and the sheep grazing (there are parts in the Psalms where He does that, to make a different point: “See what I can do to care for you.”). But this is not that.

This is, “See all the strange and unconnected-to-human-life parts of creation that I know, that I love.” My knowledge is intricate. You say I haven't seen your suffering. I see all. And I care for all.

Wild and Playful Creatures

And then — related, and starting to move on from here — He starts to have this really kind of strange, wild and playful description of creation.

“Who let the wild donkey go free? I gave it the wasteland as its home; it laughs at the commotion in the town.”

“Will the wild ox consent to serve you? Can you hold it to the furrow with a harness? Will you rely on it for its great strength?” (The answer being no — not a chance.)

Then this long excursus on the ostrich:

“The wings of the ostrich flap joyfully, though they cannot compare with the wings and feathers of the stork.”

“She lays her eggs on the ground and lets them warm in the sand, unmindful that a foot may crush them or that some wild animal may trample them.”

“She treats her young harshly, as if they were not hers. She cares not that her labor was in vain, for God did not endow her with wisdom or give her a share of good sense.”

“Yet when she spreads her feathers to run, she laughs at horse and rider.”

The ostrich is a nonsense creature. God says it's got this big body and a long neck and a funny tiny head. It lays its eggs in the sand rather than putting them in a nest or sitting on them. It makes these foolish decisions.

It looks ridiculous. And yet when it runs, God says, “I delight in it.” It is fast and crazy and wild and stupid, and I love it.

This creation that I have made. Look around. It is full of wildness and nonsense and play.

And it is not always centered on you. An ostrich goes its own way. A horse, a hawk. An eagle. An ox. A mountain goat, a donkey.

All of these wild, free creatures. I made them. I love them. I delight in them.

And they're not really part of your story.

Behemoth and Leviathan: Chaos Contained

He goes on then into chapter 40 and 41, and He moves into these animals that seem to be mythological. And the point here is that God's power contains and holds in check all that seems out of control, including chaos and injustice.

So we've got wildness, we've got nonsense, we've got play. But now we've got two creatures called Behemoth and Leviathan.

Now, in my household, we have conversations about whether Behemoth (which “I made along with you and which feeds on grass like an ox; what strength it has in its loins, what power in the muscles of its belly, its tail is like a cedar,” etc., etc.) is a hippo, a rhino, or a dinosaur — because its tail is like a cedar and hippos have, like, tiny little tails. What is this creature?

The Leviathan. Similarly, it's in the sea.

“Can you pull in Leviathan with a fishhook? Tie down its tongue with a rope? Can you make a pet of it or put it on a leash for the young women in your house?”

“No one is fierce enough to rouse it. Who then is able to stand against Me? Everything under heaven belongs to Me.”

These creatures — Behemoth (this kind of mythological, dinosaur-like, big, scary chaos creature on land) and Leviathan (the Kraken, if you like, in the ocean) — are mythological beasts, terrifying to all the sailors and the pirates and everybody in the Psalms.

Leviathan stands for all the forces of chaos and opposition to God. There are creatures, of course, on the earth that God could say, "I control this," but these ones seem to be imbued with this kind of symbolic chaos meaning, and even a dark and evil meaning. The great beast on land and the great beast in the sea.

But God contains and holds in check all that seems out of control, all that seems terrifying, all that seems chaotic and even unjust. There is chaos in God's world, and yet it is not out of God's ultimate control.

God's Justice Is Bigger Than Ours

Finally, in chapter 40 at the beginning, He teaches us this. God's story is bigger than our story. God's justice is bigger than our justice. But it’s not in opposition to our story and our justice.

I don't know if you've ever heard preachers or teachers say, "Well, you know, I appreciate that your heart is for the vulnerable. I appreciate that you don't feel that that is right. But God's justice — God's rightness — is beyond ours."

And it sort of undercuts that feeling that sometimes we have, that things aren't right and that we're supposed to live with this very, very significant cognitive dissonance — that, you know, God doesn't actually care about the things we care about.

No, God's justice is bigger. God's ways are higher.

• He does care about human right and wrong.

• He does care about the treatment of the vulnerable and the marginalized.

• He does care when people do wicked things.

So in chapter 40, He says again to Job, “Brace yourself like a man. Would you discredit My justice? Would you condemn Me to justify yourself?”

• Do you have an arm like God's? Can your voice thunder like His?

• Unleash the fury of your wrath; look at all who are proud and bring them low.

• Look at all who are proud and humble them.

• Crush the wicked where they stand.

• Bury them all in the dust together; shroud their faces in the grave.

"Then I Myself will admit to you that your own right hand can save you."

God cares about the behavior of human beings, and He knows when the proud are being wicked. He knows when human beings who have abused and hurt other human beings deserve justice, and He will bring it — ultimately, of course, in the death and the condemnation of the wicked.

But God's justice is not in opposition to the justice that you and I desire, even though He is so far above our ways.

Job's Humble Response

So Job responds, and he responds twice. (If you were at Andy Prado's talk on Wednesday night, you'll know that the first response is one of humility, and we'll look at the next one next week.)

He knows, actually, you're right: my story is small. Humans are small in light of God's wisdom and power.

Job answered the Lord, “I am unworthy — how can I reply to You? I put my hand over my mouth. I spoke once, but I have no answer — twice, but I will say no more.”

"I am humbled. You have shown me the vastness of Your creation. You have lifted my eyes to the intricacy of Your plans, and I know that they are beyond my own story."

Humans Are Small, But Not Worthless or Alone

But God would not want Job to stop there. He knows that Job needs to hear more than just "humans are small." (So really, is that why He's come to him?)

Humans are small. God is big. But humans are not worthless. When God came to us in Jesus Christ, He did the same.

He looked around. Creation. He saw what was there. He saw the sparrows rising and falling.

And He said to the people around Him, “Look at this creation. God cares for these.”

He could be quoting Job about these sparrows. But Jesus said, “Are you not worth more than many sparrows? Does not God care for you so much more than even these utterly gorgeous little creatures?”

Psalm 8 says that God deserves all the praise and glory. And yet what is humankind? That you care for them? That you raise them up? That you love them?

Humans are small, but they are not worthless. And humans are small. But they are not alone in this world with its chaos and sufferings.

The God who is big is also personal. God came to Job to answer him. God answers him as a friend — a very high, transcendent, complex, holy-other friend.

God says, “Look around at this creation. It is made personally by Me, and I am with you in it. In its chaos, in its dark, in its light. You are not alone in this world.”

A New Way of Looking at Things — From C.S. Lewis

I learnt something new — a new way of looking at things — from C.S. Lewis this week. I'm going to read to you from one of his essays, from a book called God in the Dock.

He says:

There is an activity of God displayed throughout creation — a wholesale activity, let us say — which people refuse to recognize. The miracles done by God Incarnate, Jesus, living as a man in Palestine, perform the very same things as this wholesale activity, but at a different speed and on a smaller scale.

So think about the things that we've looked at in Job chapters 38 to 41:

• the seas being in God's control.

• Jesus calming the storm.

• Jesus walking on water.

• God feeding the the ravens.

• God taking great delight in His creation.

• Jesus feeding the 5000.

• Jesus bringing healing and restoration.

• Jesus having meals.

• Jesus turning water into wine.

One of the chief purposes of these miracles is that people, having seen a thing done by a personal power on the small scale, may recognize, when they see the same thing done on the large scale, that the power behind it is also personal — indeed the very same Person who lived among us 2000 years ago. The miracles, in fact, are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see. Of that larger script, part is already visible and part is still unsolved — the script of God's plan.

In other words, some of the miracles of Jesus do locally what God has already done universally (provide calm, be over all the chaos). Others do locally what He has not yet done but will do (healing, restoration, resurrection). In that sense, and from our human point of view, some are reminders and others prophecies.

God creates the vine and teaches it to draw up water by its roots and, with the aid of the sun, to turn that water into a juice which will ferment and take on certain qualities. Thus, every year from Noah's time till ours, God turns water into wine. But when Christ at Cana makes water into wine, the mask is off.

But the miracle has only half its effect if it only convinces us that Christ is God (obviously essential, and we always preach it like that). It will have its full effect if whenever we see a vineyard or drink a glass of wine or juice, we remember that here works He who sat at the wedding party in Cana.

God's entire creation is personal. God knows it. God loves it. The other transcendent, powerful God is the God who walked among us in Jesus, but who has never been far from us in every circumstance.

Amen.