Commentary - Job 37:6-13

Bird's-eye view

In this section of Elihu's final speech, we are presented with a magnificent portrait of God's absolute and meticulous sovereignty over the weather. Elihu, for all his youthful presumption in diagnosing Job's case, is not wrong in his theology of creation. He is arguing from the lesser to the greater. If God micromanages the snow, the rain, the ice, and the lightning, with a specific purpose for each flake and every flash, then how can Job possibly think that the far more significant events of his own life are random, meaningless, or mismanaged? The weather is not chaotic; it is a sermon. It is God's handiwork, and it is intended to make men stop their own work and consider His. Elihu's central point is that the God who directs the clouds with unerring precision for His own purposes, whether for correction or for lovingkindness, is the same God who is directing Job's life. The created order is a visible testimony to the invisible wisdom and power of the Creator. It is a call to humility, worship, and trust in the face of things we cannot possibly comprehend or control.

The passage functions as a grand orchestration of natural forces, all answering to the command of their Maestro. God speaks, and the snow falls. He breathes, and the waters freeze. He guides the storm clouds as a shepherd guides his flock. And all this activity has a moral and covenantal purpose. It is not just a display of raw power, but of purposeful power. The weather is a tool in the hands of the sovereign God, and He uses it to accomplish His will on the earth, whether that will is judgment upon His enemies or tender mercy for His people. Elihu is setting the stage for God's own appearance, reminding Job that the one with whom he has a dispute is the one who hangs the thunderheads and scatters the frost.

Outline

Context In Job

This passage is part of the climax of Elihu's speeches, which began in chapter 32. Elihu has been attempting to offer a different perspective than that of Job's three friends, Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar. While they argued that Job's suffering was a direct punishment for some specific, hidden sin (a wooden application of retribution theology), Elihu introduces the idea of suffering as a means of divine discipline and purification. Here, in his final address, he turns from Job's personal situation to the majesty of God as displayed in the natural world, particularly in a great storm. This serves a crucial rhetorical purpose. It elevates the discourse from the smallness of Job's personal grievance to the infinite greatness of God's power and wisdom. Elihu is essentially preparing Job for the Lord's own appearance from the whirlwind in the very next chapter. He is trying to get Job to lift his eyes from his own ash heap and consider the God who runs the universe. While Elihu's application to Job might be flawed, his doctrine of God's sovereignty over creation is orthodox and powerful, and it serves as a fitting prelude to God's own speeches.

Key Issues

The Meteorology of God

We moderns have a tendency to view the weather through a purely mechanistic lens. We talk about high-pressure systems, cold fronts, and jet streams as though they are autonomous forces governed by impersonal laws. Elihu would have none of that. For him, and for the entire biblical worldview, there are no impersonal forces. The weather is intensely personal because it is the work of a personal God. God does not just set up the "laws of meteorology" and let them run. He is actively involved in every raindrop and every snowflake. He says to the snow, "Fall." He tells the rain to be strong. He breathes and ice forms. He steers the clouds.

This is not primitive, pre-scientific ignorance. It is profound theological insight. The scientific laws we observe are nothing more than our description of the regular and consistent way that God governs His world. The law of gravity is not a "thing" in itself; it is the name we give to the faithful way God relates objects with mass to one another. In the same way, the principles of meteorology are simply our observations of God's ordinary providence in the atmosphere. But God is not bound by His ordinary providence. He is the Lord of it, and as Elihu makes clear, He directs it all for His own sovereign purposes. The weather is not a machine; it is a message.

Verse by Verse Commentary

6 For to the snow He says, ‘Fall on the earth,’ And to the downpour of rain and the downpour of rains, ‘Be strong.’

Elihu begins with the direct, verbal command of God. The snow does not fall because of a particular combination of temperature and atmospheric moisture alone. It falls because God tells it to fall. The relationship between God and His creation is that of a commander to his soldiers. He speaks, and it is done. Notice the personality in it: "He says." This is not deism. And He commands the rain not just to fall, but to be strong. He is the one who determines the intensity of the storm. A gentle shower and a torrential flood are both the result of His specific decree. This establishes the foundational principle for the entire passage: the weather is obedient to the word of God.

7 He seals the hand of every man, That all men may know His work.

This is a crucial verse for understanding the purpose of it all. When God sends a blizzard or a heavy, driving rain, normal human activity comes to a halt. The farmer cannot plow his field. The builder cannot work on the roof. The traveler cannot make his journey. In this way, God "seals the hand of every man." He puts a stop to our frantic, self-important labor. And why? So that we will be forced to stop and consider His labor, His work. The enforced idleness is a divine invitation to contemplation. When our hands are sealed, our eyes are meant to be opened. God sends the storm to interrupt our regularly scheduled programming and remind us who is actually in charge of the world.

8 Then the beast goes into its lair And dwells in its den.

It is not just man who is affected. The entire created order responds to God's meteorological commands. When the storm comes, the wild animals instinctively seek shelter. They know to get out of the way. There is a wisdom in the animal kingdom that often shames the arrogance of man. The beasts understand their creatureliness and their dependence on finding refuge from the power God has unleashed. This verse reinforces the universality of the storm's impact and the rightness of seeking shelter when God is at work.

9 Out of the south comes the storm, And out of the north the cold.

Elihu speaks from his geographical context. In that part of the world, storms often came from the southern chambers, the deserts, and the cold from the scattering winds of the north. But the point is not merely geographical. It is theological. These forces do not arise randomly. They come from their "chambers," their storehouses. God has treasuries of wind and cold, and He releases them according to His own counsel. He is the master of the compass, directing the forces of nature from their appointed places to their appointed destinations.

10 From the breath of God ice is made, And the expanse of the waters is frozen.

The imagery here is wonderfully personal. Ice is not simply the result of water reaching zero degrees Celsius. It is formed by the "breath of God." Just as God's breath gave life to Adam (Gen 2:7), so His breath can take the life and motion out of water, turning it hard as stone. This is a picture of immense power. With a simple exhalation, God can freeze a vast expanse of water, straitening it, constraining it, locking it up. What man with all his technology can do this? God does it with a breath. It highlights the effortless nature of His omnipotence.

11 Also with moisture He loads the thick cloud; He scatters the cloud of His lightning.

The picture is of God as a divine quartermaster, loading the clouds with their cargo of water. He determines their capacity. Then, He "scatters the cloud of His lightning." The lightning is not a byproduct of the storm; the cloud is the carrier of His lightning. He scatters it, implying both a sovereign direction and a widespread distribution. He does not just aim one bolt; He directs the entire light show. The clouds are His chariots and His weapons.

12 It changes direction, turning around by His guidance, That it may do whatever He commands it On the face of the inhabited earth.

This verse makes the sovereign control of God utterly explicit. The storm cloud, which appears to us to move at the whim of the winds, is in fact being steered. The word "guidance" suggests wise and skillful direction, like a pilot at the helm. And the cloud is perfectly obedient. It does "whatever He commands it." Its destination is not accidental. It is sent on a mission to a specific place on the "face of the inhabited earth." God's providence is not general; it is particular. He directs the storm to this town and not that one, to this field and not the next, all according to His command.

13 Whether for correction, or for His world, Or for lovingkindness, He causes it to happen.

Here is the moral punchline of the whole section. The weather is not morally neutral. God's sovereign direction of the storm has at least three purposes. First, it can be "for correction." A storm can be a rod of divine judgment, as when God sent hail on Egypt or the flood in the days of Noah. Second, it can be "for His world," or for His land. This speaks of His general providence, watering the earth, making it fruitful, sustaining the creation for His own glory and for the benefit of His creatures. Third, it can be "for lovingkindness," or covenant mercy. A gentle, timely rain on a farmer's field after a long drought is a tangible expression of God's tender care for His people. The same power that can destroy can also deliver and bless. The key is that God is the one who decides, and He "causes it to happen" for one of these reasons.

Application

The theology of Elihu is a necessary corrective to our modern, secularized view of the world. We are tempted to live as practical deists, acknowledging that God created the world, but assuming He now leaves it to run on its own. This passage demolishes that notion. God is intimately and powerfully involved in every detail of His creation, down to the direction of a single cloud and the formation of a single ice crystal.

This has profound implications for how we live. First, it should produce humility. The next time we are caught in a traffic jam because of a snowstorm, we should remember that God has "sealed our hand" for a reason. He is interrupting our plans to remind us that His plans are ultimate. We are not in control. He is. Second, it should produce worship. The power and beauty of a thunderstorm, the quiet majesty of a snowfall, the life-giving relief of rain, these are all direct expressions of the character of God. We should see them and praise Him for His power, wisdom, and goodness. Third, it should produce trust. The God who so meticulously governs the weather is the same God who governs the details of our lives. If He can steer a storm cloud for the purpose of correction or lovingkindness, can He not steer our circumstances for our ultimate good and His glory? The trials of our lives are not random. Like the weather, they are sent from His hand, "whether for correction, or for His world, or for lovingkindness." Our task is not to understand the "why" of every providence, but to trust the "Who" behind every providence, the God whose breath makes the ice and whose voice commands the rain.