Commentary - Job 31:35-40

Bird's-eye view

In this dramatic conclusion to his final, great oath of clearance, Job brings his personal legal case to its fever pitch. Having systematically sworn his innocence regarding a whole catalogue of sins, he now ceases his defense and formally demands a trial with God Himself as the defendant. This is not the mumbling of a defeated man but the bold, almost reckless, cry of a man desperate for vindication. He signs his testimony, demands God's answer, and declares he would treat God's written indictment not as a mark of shame, but as a crown of honor. He is so confident in his own integrity that he believes he could approach God like a prince, accounting for every step of his life. The section, and Job's entire discourse, concludes with a final self-malediction concerning his stewardship of the land, calling down curses upon himself if he has been an unjust landlord. This entire passage is a raw, powerful, and ultimately misguided attempt at self-justification. Job, in his agony, is appealing to the court of law, not knowing that what he truly needs is a court of grace, a need that will be overwhelmingly met when God finally answers him out of the whirlwind.

What we are witnessing is the pinnacle of human righteousness appealing to its own record. Job is, by all accounts, a righteous man. But here, his righteousness is becoming his idol. He wants to stand before God on the basis of his own performance. While his desire for a hearing with God is not wrong, the grounds for his appeal are. He wants justice, when what he needs is a Redeemer. This section powerfully sets the stage for the gospel by demonstrating the absolute inadequacy of even the most stellar human righteousness to stand before a holy God. Job's demand for an indictment is ironically answered on Calvary, where our indictment was nailed to a cross and worn by a true Prince who approached God on our behalf.

Outline

Context In Job

This passage is the capstone of Job's long and arduous defense of his own character. Chapter 31 is structured as a series of oaths, where Job invokes curses upon himself if he has committed specific sins. He has covered lust, falsehood, adultery, injustice to servants, neglect of the poor, greed, idolatry, and vindictiveness. Now, having exhausted his list, he turns from addressing his friends to addressing God directly. This is the culmination of a desire he has expressed multiple times throughout the book: the longing to come before God and plead his case (Job 13:3, 22; 23:3-7). His friends have argued from the rigid premise that suffering is always direct punishment for sin. Job knows this is not true in his case, and so he concludes his entire argument by formally and legally challenging God to produce a charge sheet. This sets the stage for the intervening speeches of the young man Elihu, and then, climactically, for God's own response, which will utterly reframe the entire debate, moving it away from Job's righteousness and onto God's sovereign wisdom and majesty.

Key Issues

The Courtroom of the Conscience

Job is a man whose conscience is clear, and so he does what any man with a clear conscience would do: he demands his day in court. He wants the charges read. He wants to see the evidence. He is operating entirely within the framework of law and justice. In the ancient world, a man would make his mark, his tav (the last letter of the Hebrew alphabet, shaped like a cross), as his signature on a legal document. Job is essentially saying, "Here is my sworn testimony, signed and sealed. I rest my case. Now let the Almighty answer."

This is a profound picture of man standing before God on the basis of his own integrity. The problem is not that Job is a hypocrite; the problem is that he is not God. His righteousness, as real as it is, is still the righteousness of a creature. He is appealing to a standard he thinks he has met, not realizing that the standard is the very character of God Himself. His friends were wrong to accuse him of secret sin, but Job is wrong to think his manifest righteousness is enough. This entire section is the high-water mark of human virtue trying to justify itself. It is noble, it is courageous, it is passionate, and it is entirely wrong. The gospel does not come to us because we have a good case to present; the gospel comes to us because we have no case at all, and Christ becomes our case for us.

Verse by Verse Commentary

35 Oh that I had one to hear me! Behold, here is my signature; Let the Almighty answer me! And the indictment which my accuser has written,

Job's frustration boils over into a formal legal challenge. His cry, "Oh that I had one to hear me!" is a plea for an arbiter, a judge who will listen to his case fairly. His friends have been miserable comforters and biased jurors. So he bypasses them entirely and appeals to the highest court. "Behold, here is my signature" is the moment he signs his deposition. The Hebrew is literally "my tav," my mark. He is done speaking; his testimony is on the record. Now he turns to the opposing counsel and the judge, who in this case are one and the same: "Let the Almighty answer me!" He is demanding that God respond to his oath of innocence. Furthermore, he demands to see the charge sheet, the written indictment from his accuser. He wants the accusations out in the open. This is a man who believes that sunlight is the best disinfectant; if there is a charge against him, he wants to see it, confront it, and defeat it.

36 Surely I would carry it on my shoulder; I would bind it to myself like a crown.

This is one of the most audacious statements in all of Scripture. A formal indictment was a document of shame. But Job declares that if God would only write out His charges against him, he would not hide it in shame. He would carry it on his shoulder, as a ruler might carry a scepter or insignia of office. More than that, he would bind it to his head like a crown. He is saying, "Your accusation against me would be my glory. Your indictment would be my vindication." Why? Because he is so utterly convinced that the indictment would be blank, or that the charges listed would be so flimsy he could dismantle them with ease. The very attempt to prosecute him would prove his innocence. This is the confidence of a man who trusts in his own righteousness. It is a staggering claim, and it reveals how far Job still is from understanding his true position before God.

37 I would declare to Him the number of my steps; Like a prince I would approach Him,

Job's confidence continues to build. Not only would he wear the indictment as a crown, but he would approach the divine Judge with full transparency and regal dignity. He would "declare to Him the number of my steps," meaning he would provide a full accounting of his entire life, holding nothing back. He is not afraid of discovery. He believes his life's ledger is balanced. And he would not come crawling like a guilty slave; he would approach "like a prince." A prince has a right to be in the king's court. He belongs there. He has standing. Job is claiming that his integrity gives him standing before God. He believes he can walk into the throne room of the universe on his own two feet and demand an audience. This is the very opposite of the publican who stood far off and would not even lift his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, "God, be merciful to me, a sinner!" (Luke 18:13). Job is not yet ready to pray that prayer.

38-40 “If my land cries out against me, And its furrows weep together, If I have eaten its fruit without money, Or have caused its owners to lose their lives, Let briars come out instead of wheat, And stinkweed instead of barley.” The words of Job are ended.

Job concludes his great speech with one final oath, a self-cursing related to his conduct as a landowner. This was a crucial area of justice in the ancient world. He personifies the land itself, imagining it crying out against him if he had been unjust. The furrows of the field would weep if he had stolen its produce or cheated his tenants. The imagery echoes the cry of Abel's blood from the ground (Gen 4:10). Job is saying that if he has been an oppressor, if he has exploited the earth or the people who work it, then let the curse of Genesis 3 fall on his fields with renewed vigor. Let them produce not life-giving grain, but worthless thorns and foul-smelling weeds. And with that, he rests his case. "The words of Job are ended." He has said all he can say. He has built the edifice of his own righteousness as high as any man could, and now he stands atop it, waiting for God's response.

Application

Job's cry is the cry of every man who believes, deep down, that he is a basically good person who deserves a fair shake from God. We live in a world full of people who, if they were in Job's sandals, would say much the same thing. "I'm a good person. I haven't done anything to deserve this. If God has a problem with me, let Him say it to my face." This passage is a stark reminder that our own righteousness is a dead end. Even the best of it, the righteousness of a man like Job whom God Himself called blameless, is insufficient.

The gospel flips Job's demand on its head. Job demanded to see the indictment against him. The gospel shows us that the indictment against us was real, it was terrifyingly long, and it was fully deserved. But instead of handing it to us, God nailed it to the cross of His Son (Col 2:14). Job wanted to wear the indictment as a crown. The gospel tells us that Jesus wore our indictment as a crown of thorns. Job wanted to approach God like a prince based on his own record. The gospel invites us to approach God like sons and daughters, based entirely on the record of the true Prince, Jesus Christ. Job was ready to give an account of every step. We are called to confess that every step was stained with sin, and to cling to the one whose every step was perfect.

Therefore, we must repent not only of our sins, but of our righteousnesses. Our virtues can be a greater danger to our souls than our vices if we trust in them. The only safe place to stand is not on the pinnacle of our own achievements, but at the foot of the cross, confessing that we have no case, no defense, and no hope apart from the Advocate who pleads His own blood on our behalf.