The Unflinching Rectitude of God Text: Job 34:10-12
Introduction: The Audacity of the Clay
We come now to the speeches of Elihu, the young man who has been waiting impatiently on the sidelines while Job and his three friends have gone round and round. And in our democratic, egalitarian, youth-worshipping age, we are tempted to dismiss him because he is young and brash. But in the economy of God, wisdom is not a function of grey hairs, but of a right heart. And Elihu, for all his youthful zeal, brings a necessary and sharp corrective to the entire conversation.
The central problem in the book of Job, and indeed in all human suffering, is the problem of God's justice. Job, in his agony, has come right up to the line of accusing God of wrongdoing. He has charged God with being his enemy, with hunting him down without cause. His friends, on the other hand, have defended God, but they have done so woodenly. Their syllogism is simple: God is just; therefore, if you are suffering, you must have sinned grievously. They are right that God is just, but they are wrong in their application. They are trying to solve a quadratic equation with basic addition. They are defending God, but with bad arguments, which is no defense at all. It is like trying to defend a lion with a fly swatter. The lion does not need your help, and you just look foolish.
Into this mess steps Elihu, and his central burden is to vindicate the character of God. He is not primarily concerned with Job's comfort, or with the neat theological systems of the friends. He is concerned with the honor of the Almighty. He understands something fundamental that our entire generation has forgotten: God is not on trial. We are. The creature does not get to cross-examine the Creator. The pot does not get to critique the potter's technique. To do so is an act of cosmic impudence, the height of creaturely audacity.
Elihu's words here are a frontal assault on the very idea that God could be unjust. This is not a proposition to be debated; it is the bedrock axiom of all reality. If God is not just, then the word 'just' has no meaning. If the ultimate standard of righteousness can be unrighteous, then all our talk of good and evil is just so much meaningless noise, a clanging gong in a universe empty of meaning. Elihu is here to remind us that our suffering does not give us a platform from which to judge God. Rather, God's character is the platform from which we must interpret our suffering.
The Text
"Therefore, listen to me, you men with a heart of wisdom. Far be it from God to do injustice, And from the Almighty to do wrong. For He pays a man according to his work, And makes him find it according to his way. Truly, God will not act wickedly, And the Almighty will not pervert justice."
(Job 34:10-12 LSB)
The Foundational Premise (v. 10)
Elihu begins with a call to listen, and then lays down the foundational truth upon which everything else rests.
"Therefore, listen to me, you men with a heart of wisdom. Far be it from God to do injustice, And from the Almighty to do wrong." (Job 34:10 LSB)
Elihu appeals to "men with a heart of wisdom." He is not just looking for hearers, but for those who have the capacity to understand. And what is the first principle of wisdom? It is this: "Far be it from God..." This phrase in the Hebrew is one of intense repudiation. It is a visceral rejection of a blasphemous thought. The idea that God, the Almighty, Shaddai, could do wrong is not just incorrect, it is unthinkable. It is a category error of the highest order.
We must get this straight. God is not subject to some external standard of justice to which He must conform. He does not look at a rule book to make sure He is doing the right thing. God is the standard. Justice is what God is. Righteousness is the outflow of His unchangeable character. For God to do wrong would be for Him to cease to be God. It is as impossible as a square circle or a married bachelor. It is a contradiction in terms.
Our modern world has this entirely backward. We have set ourselves up as the judges of what is right and wrong. We have taken the judge's gavel into our own grubby hands and presumed to bring God into our courtroom to answer our charges. We look at a tsunami, or a child with cancer, or our own personal miseries, and we say, "If I were God, I would not have done it that way." This is the primordial sin of the Garden whispered anew: "You shall be as gods, determining good and evil." Elihu cuts the legs out from under this entire satanic project. The very thought that the Almighty could do wrong must be banished from our minds with horror.
The Law of Consequences (v. 11)
Having established the character of God, Elihu now moves to the outworking of that character in the world. How does a perfectly just God govern?
"For He pays a man according to his work, And makes him find it according to his way." (Job 34:11 LSB)
This is the principle of sowing and reaping, woven into the fabric of creation by a just Creator. God has structured reality in such a way that actions have consequences. This is not the same as the friends' clumsy karma. They argued that Job's immense suffering must be the direct result of some immense, specific sin. Elihu's point is broader. He is describing the ordinary providence of God. God renders to every man according to his work. The diligent hand brings wealth; the sluggard's field grows thorns. The way of the transgressor is hard. This is the moral grain of the universe.
But what about the exceptions? What about Job? What about the martyrs? What about Asaph's complaint in Psalm 73 that the wicked prosper while the righteous suffer? This is where we must distinguish between the ultimate and the penultimate. The final payday is not in this life. God is not mocked, and a man will reap what he sows, but the harvest is not always immediate (Gal. 6:7). God is patient, and He often allows accounts to run for a very long time before settling them.
The cross of Jesus Christ is the ultimate proof of this. There, the only truly innocent man who ever lived was paid the wages of sin. He reaped what He did not sow. And we, who have sown nothing but rebellion, are offered the harvest of His perfect righteousness. This does not abolish the law of consequences; it fulfills it. The wages of our sin were paid in full to Christ, so that the reward of His righteousness might be credited to us. But the principle remains: God is a God of accounts. Nothing is overlooked. Every idle word, every secret sin, every act of faithfulness will be brought to the scales. And for the believer, the scales were balanced at Calvary.
The Unwavering Standard (v. 12)
Elihu then doubles down, restating his central thesis with emphatic certainty.
"Truly, God will not act wickedly, And the Almighty will not pervert justice." (Job 34:12 LSB)
The word "truly" lends a solemn, oath-like quality to the statement. This is not a matter of opinion. This is a non-negotiable fact of existence. God will not, cannot, act wickedly. The Almighty, the one with all power, will not use that power to pervert justice. This is a profound comfort and a terrifying thought, depending on where you stand with Him.
Think of it. Human judges can be bribed. Human courts can be corrupted. Human power is almost always a temptation to injustice. The more power a man has, the more damage he can do when he goes wrong. But with God, it is the opposite. His omnipotence is the very guarantee of His justice. Because He is all-powerful, He has no needs. He cannot be bribed, because He owns everything. He cannot be threatened or intimidated. He has no insecure ego that needs to be stroked by oppressing others. His absolute power means His justice is absolutely pure.
This is why the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. To stand before this God is to stand before a perfectly righteous judge. For the unrepentant sinner, this is the worst news in the world. Every sin will be justly condemned. There will be no loopholes, no technicalities, no slick lawyers to get you off. But for the one who has fled for refuge to Christ, this is the best news in the world. Because God is just, He must forgive the one whose sins have been paid for. As John says, "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness" (1 John 1:9). He is not just merciful to forgive us; He is just to forgive us, because justice was fully satisfied at the cross.
Conclusion: Bowing Before the Whirlwind
Elihu is preparing the way for God's appearance in the whirlwind. He is clearing the deck of all our creaturely arguments and our insolent questioning. He is reminding Job, and us, of our place. We are the thing made. He is the maker. We are the characters in the story. He is the author, and the author does not owe his characters an explanation.
The answer to suffering is not a neat formula. The answer is not a tidy syllogism. The answer is a person. The answer is God Himself. When God finally speaks to Job, He does not answer any of Job's specific questions. He does not explain the "why." Instead, He reveals the "Who." He reveals His majesty, His power, His wisdom, His untamable sovereignty. And in the face of that revelation, Job's questions evaporate. He repents in dust and ashes, not because he got an explanation, but because he got a vision of God.
Elihu's defense of God's perfect justice is the necessary groundwork for that encounter. You cannot see God rightly if you are squinting at Him through the lens of your own supposed righteousness or your own sense of being wronged. You must begin where Elihu begins: Far be it from God to do wrong. He is the Almighty, and He does not pervert justice. He is the standard. He is the ground of all being and all goodness. And when you are tempted in your suffering to question Him, the only sane response is to put your hand over your mouth and worship the one who owes you nothing, but who in Christ has given you everything.