The Accused in the Hands of the Hunter Text: Job 10:13-17
Introduction: The Sanity of Sovereignty
We live in an age that is terrified of absolutes, and the most terrifying absolute of all is an absolutely sovereign God. Modern man, and tragically, many modern Christians, want a God who is manageable. They want a God who can be kept on a leash, a God who offers comfort but never demands unconditional surrender. They want a God who is a celestial therapist, not a celestial king. When suffering comes, as it inevitably does, this tame, manageable god evaporates into a puff of sentimental smoke. He is no help at all, because a god who is not sovereign over suffering is not God at all. He is just another victim.
The book of Job is a fierce corrective to this kind of theological malpractice. It drags us out of our shallow sentimentalism and forces us to confront the raw, terrifying, and ultimately glorious sovereignty of God. Job is a man who has lost everything, and he is not handling it with the plastic smile of a modern praise song. He is wrestling. He is arguing. He is demanding answers. And in the passage before us, he sounds like a man cornered, a man who feels trapped by the very God he has always sought to serve.
Job's friends have been peddling their neat and tidy system of retributive justice: you sinned, therefore you suffer. Find the sin, confess it, and the suffering will stop. But Job, in his integrity, knows this is not the whole story. He knows there is no secret, monstrous sin that would justify this level of devastation. So he is left with a far more terrifying problem. If his suffering is not a direct result of his wickedness, then what is it? He is driven to the conclusion that God Himself is his adversary, for reasons that are hidden deep within the divine counsel. Job is not an atheist; he is a God-haunted man. He cannot escape the reality of God, even when that reality feels like a lion hunting him down.
This passage is a raw, honest lament. It is the cry of a man who feels caught in a divine trap where every move is the wrong one. But we must not make the mistake of thinking this is a crisis of faith. This is what real faith looks like in the crucible. It is not silent stoicism. It is a faith that is robust enough to argue with God, to question Him, and to hold on to Him even when He feels like an enemy. This is the kind of faith that God is forging in the furnace, and it is the only kind of faith that will stand in the evil day.
The Text
Yet these things You have concealed in Your heart; I know that this is within You: If I sin, then You would take note of me And would not acquit me of my guilt. If I am wicked, woe to me! And if I am righteous, I dare not lift up my head. I am sated with disgrace so see my misery! Should my head be set on high, You would hunt me like a lion; And again You would show Your wonders against me. You renew Your witnesses against me And increase Your vexation toward me; Hardship after hardship is with me.
(Job 10:13-17 LSB)
The Hidden Decree (v. 13)
Job begins by acknowledging that his suffering is not an accident. It is part of a deliberate, albeit hidden, plan in the mind of God.
"Yet these things You have concealed in Your heart; I know that this is within You:" (Job 10:13)
Job is a thoroughgoing Calvinist before Calvin was ever born. He has no room in his theology for a universe of random chance. He knows that his calamities are not just bad luck. They are not the result of an impersonal fate. They are from God. But the reasons are "concealed in Your heart." This is the doctrine of God's secret will. Deuteronomy 29:29 tells us that "The secret things belong to the LORD our God, but the things that are revealed belong to us." Job is crashing headlong into the secret things.
He does not have access to the conversation recorded in chapters 1 and 2. He does not know about the heavenly challenge between God and Satan. All he knows is that the God who formed him in the womb (as he just described in the previous verses) is now, for some hidden reason, intent on undoing him. The phrase "I know that this is within You" is a statement of grim certainty. This is not a random outburst of divine temper. This is a settled purpose. Job understands that God is not capricious; He is purposeful. The problem, from Job's perspective, is that the purpose is terrifying and inscrutable.
This is where our modern sensibilities get squeamish. We want a God whose plans are always transparent and immediately comforting. But the Bible presents a God whose ways are not our ways, and whose thoughts are not our thoughts. His purposes are often hidden from us, and faith is not the ability to see the whole blueprint. Faith is the conviction to trust the Architect, even when you are in the dark, on a chaotic construction site, and it feels like the walls are closing in.
The Divine Double Bind (v. 14-15)
Job now describes the impossible situation he finds himself in. He feels trapped, where both sin and righteousness lead to condemnation.
"If I sin, then You would take note of me And would not acquit me of my guilt. If I am wicked, woe to me! And if I am righteous, I dare not lift up my head. I am sated with disgrace so see my misery!" (Job 10:14-15 LSB)
Here Job lays out the logic of his despair. First, the path of sin. "If I sin, then You would take note of me." God is a meticulous bookkeeper. No sin goes unnoticed. And He "would not acquit me of my guilt." This is basic biblical justice. God is holy, and sin must be punished. So if Job is a sinner, as his friends insist, then of course he is under judgment. "If I am wicked, woe to me!" This is straightforward. The wicked deserve woe.
But here is the rub. What about the other path? "And if I am righteous, I dare not lift up my head." This is the heart of his torment. In a just world, righteousness should lead to vindication, to confidence, to blessing. But Job's experience has turned this on its head. He knows in his heart that he has walked uprightly. Yet, his circumstances scream "guilty." If he were to stand up and declare his righteousness, it would seem like the height of arrogance in the face of such overwhelming divine judgment. His disgrace is so complete, his misery so profound, that any claim to righteousness feels absurd. He is "sated with disgrace," full to the brim with shame.
He feels caught in a divine catch-22. If he is wicked, he is condemned. If he is righteous, his circumstances condemn him anyway, and he is too crushed to even protest his innocence. This is what happens when we try to navigate our relationship with God based solely on our circumstances. Our circumstances are a fickle and unreliable narrator. Faith must be fixed not on our ever-changing circumstances, but on the never-changing character of God as revealed in His Word. Job doesn't have the full Word as we do, but he is clinging to what he knows of God's character, even as his experience seems to contradict it.
The Relentless Hunter (v. 16)
The feeling of being trapped intensifies. Any attempt to rise up is met with a swift and powerful response from God, who is depicted as a predator.
"Should my head be set on high, You would hunt me like a lion; And again You would show Your wonders against me." (Job 10:16 LSB)
This is a terrifying image. "Should my head be set on high", if Job were to muster the courage to assert his dignity, to claim his righteousness, to rise above his disgrace, God would treat it as an act of rebellion. He would be hunted "like a lion." The lion is a biblical symbol of overwhelming, irresistible power and ferocity. This is not a gentle correction; it is a violent takedown.
And notice the language: "again You would show Your wonders against me." The word "wonders" is often used for God's miraculous acts of salvation, like the plagues in Egypt or the parting of the Red Sea. But here, Job sees God's miraculous power turned against him. God's creative, sovereign power is being displayed in Job's destruction. The same hand that can deliver can also crush, and Job feels the full weight of that crushing power. Every new boil, every fresh wave of grief, is another "wonder," another demonstration of God's terrifying might arrayed against him.
This is the cry of a man who feels that God is not just his judge, but his personal, relentless adversary. It is a raw and honest portrayal of what it feels like to be under the severe hand of God's providence. It is not pretty, but it is real. And the Bible includes it to teach us that God is big enough to handle our most desperate and even seemingly blasphemous cries. He is not a fragile deity who is offended by our honesty. He invites us to wrestle with Him, just as Jacob did.
The Unending Trial (v. 17)
Job concludes this section by describing his suffering as a legal case in which God is continually bringing new evidence and fresh assaults against him.
"You renew Your witnesses against me And increase Your vexation toward me; Hardship after hardship is with me." (Job 10:17 LSB)
The courtroom metaphor continues. Every new disaster is a new "witness" that God brings to testify against Job. His friends, his boils, the memory of his dead children, all are exhibits in the prosecution's case. And with each new witness, God's "vexation," His anger, seems to increase. There is no relief, no recess. The trial is unending.
The final phrase, "Hardship after hardship is with me," can also be translated as "changes and warfare are against me" or "fresh troops relieve one another against me." The image is that of a military assault. As soon as one wave of soldiers is exhausted, a fresh wave is sent in. Job feels like he is a city under siege, and God is sending wave after wave of fresh troops to overwhelm his defenses. There is no end in sight. It is a relentless, grinding war of attrition, and Job is on the losing side.
The Cross in the Ash Heap
So what do we do with this? How do we read Job's raw, agonizing complaint and not walk away with a distorted view of God? We must do what Job could not do. We must look forward to the cross of Jesus Christ.
Job felt trapped in a divine double bind: condemned if wicked, and condemned if righteous. Why? Because in a world of sin, this is precisely our condition before a holy God. Left to ourselves, our wickedness condemns us. And our righteousness? The prophet Isaiah tells us that all our righteous deeds are like a polluted garment (Isaiah 64:6). Our very best efforts are shot through with sin and are utterly insufficient to stand before a holy God. Job's dilemma is every man's dilemma apart from Christ.
Job felt hunted by God like a lion. On the cross, the Lion of the tribe of Judah was Himself hunted. He who knew no sin was made to be sin for us (2 Corinthians 5:21). God showed His "wonders" against His own Son. The full, terrifying, holy wrath of God against sin was unleashed not on Job, and not on us, but on Christ. Jesus cried out the opening words of Psalm 22, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" He experienced the ultimate divine abandonment that Job only tasted.
Job felt like God was renewing witnesses against him. On the cross, false witnesses were brought against Jesus. The entire world testified against Him. Wave after wave of assault, from the soldiers, the crowds, the religious leaders, and the powers of darkness, crashed against Him. He endured the ultimate siege.
Because of this, the entire equation is changed for us. We are no longer in Job's double bind. If we are in Christ, when we sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous (1 John 2:1). He does not take note of our sin to condemn us, because it has been fully condemned in His Son. And if we are righteous? We can lift up our heads! Not because of our own righteousness, but because we have been clothed in the perfect righteousness of Christ. We are not sated with disgrace, but robed in honor.
Therefore, when suffering comes to us, we know it is not the wrath of a relentless hunter. It is the discipline of a loving Father. It is the chisel of a master sculptor, shaping us into the image of His Son. The reasons may still be concealed in His heart, but the character of the one who ordains it has been revealed fully and finally at the cross. He is for us. And if God is for us, who can be against us?