God Speaks from the Whirlwind

Then the Lord spoke to Job out of the storm. After all the human speeches—Job's protests, the friends' accusations, Elihu's sermons—God Himself broke the silence. But He did not answer Job's questions. Instead, He asked His own.

'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.'

What followed was one of the most magnificent passages in all of Scripture—a sustained revelation of divine power and wisdom through question after unanswerable question.

'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?'

God took Job on a tour of creation. He spoke of the sea bursting from the womb, of giving orders to the morning, of storehouses of snow and hail kept for times of trouble and war. He asked about the paths of light and darkness, the movements of constellations, the laws of heaven and their influence on earth.

'Do you send the lightning bolts on their way? Do they report to you, "Here we are"? Who gives the ibis wisdom or gives the rooster understanding? Who has the wisdom to count the clouds?'

Then God turned to the animal kingdom—each creature a demonstration of divine wisdom beyond human capacity. The lioness and her cubs, the raven and its young crying to God for food. The mountain goats giving birth in the wild, the wild donkey refusing domestication, the wild ox that cannot be harnessed for human purposes.

'Do you give the horse its strength or clothe its neck with a flowing mane? Do you make it leap like a locust, striking terror with its proud snorting?'

The eagle that soars at God's command, building its nest on the cliff, from there seeking out its food. Each creature lives according to purposes beyond human control or full understanding.

Then God paused: 'Will the one who contends with the Almighty correct him? Let him who accuses God answer him!'

Job was overwhelmed. '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.'

But God was not finished. He spoke again from the storm: 'Brace yourself like a man; I will question you, and you shall answer me. Would you discredit my justice? Would you condemn me to justify yourself?'

God challenged Job to take His place if he could—to wield divine power, to humble the proud, to execute justice. Then He described two creatures: Behemoth, perhaps a hippopotamus or dinosaur, a creature of such strength that 'only its Maker can approach it with his sword.' And Leviathan, perhaps a crocodile or sea serpent, a creature so fierce that 'nothing on earth is its equal—a creature without fear. It looks down on all that are haughty; it is king over all that are proud.'

The point was unmistakable. If Job could not control or even fully understand these creatures—if the workings of nature were beyond his comprehension—how could he presume to understand or judge the workings of divine providence?

God never explained why Job suffered. He never mentioned Satan, the heavenly wager, or the test of genuine faith. He simply revealed Himself—His power, His wisdom, His intricate care for all creation. The answer to Job's questions was not an explanation but a revelation of who God is.

Sometimes the only sufficient answer to 'Why?' is 'Who'—who God is, in all His infinite majesty and inscrutable wisdom.