Commentary - Job 39:9-12

Bird's-eye view

Out of the whirlwind, God finally answers Job. But the answer He gives is not the one Job was demanding. Job wanted a celestial court case, a legal explanation for his suffering. What he gets instead is a tour of the untamed glories of the created order. God does not hand Job a legal brief; He takes him to the zoo. And this is a zoo where man is not the zookeeper. In this section, Job 39:9-12, God puts a particular animal before Job’s face, the wild ox, or the unicorn as the King James translators had it. The point is not the specific zoology, but rather the raw, untamable power of the creature. God’s questions are a series of rhetorical blows, designed to knock the self-righteous wind out of Job. Can you domesticate this beast? Can you make it serve your purposes? Can you trust it? The answer to all is a resounding no, which forces the larger point. If Job cannot even manage one of God's more formidable creatures, what business does he have putting God Himself in the dock?

This passage is a direct assault on the pride of man. We are inveterate domesticators. We want everything to be manageable, predictable, and useful to us. This applies to our livestock, and it tragically applies to our theology. We want a God who will spend the night at our manger, a God we can bind with the ropes of our theological systems. But the true God is wild. His power is not a tool for us to wield for our own comfort and prosperity. This is the lesson Job is learning, and it is a lesson every believer must learn. God's creation preaches His sovereignty, and it is a sermon that leaves no room for human boasting.

Outline

Context In Job

These verses are situated in the heart of God's second speech to Job. After Job and his three friends have exhausted their theological arguments, with Job demanding his day in court and his friends insisting on a rigid formula of sin and suffering, God Himself enters the debate. But He does not address the points they had been arguing over. He doesn't explain the "why" of Job's specific afflictions. Instead, He reveals the "Who." He reveals Himself as the sovereign Creator, whose wisdom and power are far beyond human comprehension. The questions about the wild ox follow a series of other questions about the natural world: the lions, the mountain goats, the wild donkey. Each example serves to dismantle Job's man-centered perspective and replace it with a God-centered one. The point is cumulative: if the governance of the animal kingdom is this mysterious and outside of man's control, how much more the governance of human affairs and the outworking of divine justice?

Key Issues

Commentary

9 Will the wild ox consent to serve you, Or will he spend the night at your manger?

The first question is sharp and to the point. God asks Job if this magnificent beast, the re'em, will willingly submit to his authority. The word "consent" is key. This is not about brute force, but about willing service. The domestic ox serves man, it plows his fields, it eats from his manger. It has been brought into the human economy. But the wild ox? It answers to a different authority. It will not be tamed by you. It will not come into your barn and meekly accept your provision. The manger here is a symbol of domestication, of a dependent relationship. God is pressing Job: do you think all of creation is oriented around you and your needs? Do you think everything powerful can be made to fit into your structures, your neat and tidy stalls? This creature exists for God's glory, not for Job's farm. And if this is true of the wild ox, how much more is it true of the God who made him?

10 Can you bind the wild ox in a furrow with ropes, Or will he harrow the valleys after you?

The imagery moves from the barn to the field. Plowing is the quintessential act of human dominion over the earth. It is the hard work of civilization, of turning wilderness into a productive garden. And for this, man needs beasts of burden. So God asks, can you take this wild thing and make it do your work? Can you strap a harness on it and make it walk your straight lines? The picture is almost comical. Imagine trying to tether this beast, bristling with raw power, to a plow. The ropes would snap. The plow would be splintered. The man would be trampled. The wild ox will not "harrow the valleys after you." He does not follow your lead. He is not your subordinate. The application to Job's situation is potent. Job has been trying to bind God with the ropes of his own understanding of justice. He has been trying to make God plow in the furrows of human logic. God is telling him, through this animal, that He will not be so bound. He is not a tame God who follows our lead.

11 Will you trust him because his power is great And leave your labor to him?

Now the argument takes a turn. God points to the very quality that might tempt a man to try and harness this beast: its great power. Here is a creature of immense strength. A pragmatic man might see that strength and think, "If only I could get that power working for me." But God exposes the foolishness of such a thought. Would you trust him? Would you delegate your most important tasks to him? Of course not. His power is not matched by compliance. His strength is not ordered by your will. To trust him would be to invite chaos and destruction. This is a profound theological point. Many people are attracted to the idea of God's power, but they want it on their own terms. They want a powerful God who will do their bidding. They want to "leave their labor to him" in the sense of having Him fulfill their agenda. But God's power is inseparable from His character, His wisdom, and His sovereign will. We are called to trust His power not because it is a tool for our use, but because it is the power of a wise and good Creator who knows what He is doing, even when we do not.

12 Will you believe him that he will return your seed of grain And gather it from your threshing floor?

The final question brings the agricultural illustration to its conclusion. The entire point of plowing and harrowing is the harvest. Will this wild ox, this untamed force of nature, faithfully bring in your grain? Will he participate in the final, delicate act of gathering the harvest to your threshing floor? The answer is obvious. He would sooner trample the grain into the mud. He has no concept of your purpose, your seed, your harvest. His nature is incompatible with the careful, ordered work of agriculture. God's point to Job is now complete. Job, you cannot understand, predict, or control even one of my creatures. Its ways are not your ways. Its power is not your power. How then can you presume to understand my ways? How can you demand that I, your Creator, submit to your timetable and your definition of a successful harvest? You must trust the Harvester, not because you can tame Him, but because He is the Lord of the harvest. Your task is not to bind Him with ropes, but to bow before Him in faith.

Application

The lesson of the wild ox is a necessary and humbling one for all of us. We live in an age that worships control. We want predictable outcomes, manageable systems, and a God who fits neatly into our plans. We want to domesticate God. We want Him to eat at our manger, to plow our furrows, to bring in our harvest, all according to our specifications. We want His great power, but we want it on a leash.

But God is not a domestic animal. He is the sovereign Lord of all creation. His thoughts are not our thoughts, and His ways are not our ways. This is not a cause for despair, but for worship. The wildness of God is the wildness of perfect wisdom and perfect goodness. Our attempts to bind Him with the ropes of our expectations are not only futile, they are idolatrous. We are the creature; He is the Creator.

True godly dominion, the kind given to Adam in the garden, is not about forcing all of creation into our own little barns. It is about stewarding the world according to the Creator's purposes, in humble submission to Him. Before we can exercise any authority in the world, we must first learn to bow. Job was being taught to bow. He was being reminded that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. When we are confronted by the wild ox, our response should not be to grab for a rope, but to fall on our knees. For in that posture of humility, we find our proper place in the world and our true relationship to the untamable God who made it.