Aha! In the Face of the Whirlwind Text: Job 39:19-25
Introduction: The Divine Cross-Examination
We come now to the heart of the matter. For thirty-seven chapters, we have listened to Job and his counselors circle each other like wary boxers. We have heard pious platitudes, profound despair, and arrogant demands for a hearing with the Almighty. Job, a righteous man, has been stripped of everything, and he wants to know why. He has demanded that God show up and give an account of Himself. And now, God has answered. But He does not answer in the way any of us would have expected. He does not show up with a flowchart explaining the problem of evil. He does not provide a detailed account of the conversations He had with the Accuser in the heavenly court. He does not justify Himself at all.
Instead, God shows up in a whirlwind and puts Job on the witness stand. The defendant has become the prosecutor. God's response to Job's suffering is a blistering, magnificent, two-chapter cross-examination about the created order. He asks Job where he was when the foundations of the earth were laid. He asks him if he commands the morning, or if he has ever walked in the recesses of the deep. And in our text today, He brings forth one of His most glorious and terrifying creatures, the war horse, and asks Job if he had anything at all to do with it.
This is not an evasion. This is the answer. The modern, therapeutic mind sees this as God changing the subject. But God is not changing the subject; He is revealing the subject. The subject is God Himself. The answer to Job's suffering is not a proposition, but a Person. The problem with Job, and the problem with us, is that we forget who we are dealing with. We shrink God down to our size, we try to fit Him into our syllogisms, and we imagine that He owes us an explanation that our little three-pound brains can process. God's answer is designed to shatter that arrogance. He is reminding Job that the same God who providentially governs the untamable things, the wild things, the glorious and frightening things, is the same God who is governing the untamable, wild, and frightening circumstances of Job's life.
The description of the war horse is not a zoology lesson. It is a theology lesson. It is a display of God's character, His untamable sovereignty, His majestic power, and His joyous delight in a creation that is not safe, but is good. This is God's world, and it is shot through with a wild and dangerous glory that should leave us speechless, humbled, and ultimately, trusting.
The Text
"Do you give the horse his might? Do you clothe his neck with a mane? Do you make him leap like the locust? His splendid snorting is terrible. He paws in the valley and rejoices in his power; He goes out to meet the weapons. He laughs at dread and is not dismayed; And he does not turn back from the sword. The quiver rattles against him, The flashing spear and javelin. With shaking and rage he races over the ground, And he does not stand still at the sound of the trumpet. As often as the trumpet sounds he says, 'Aha!' And he scents the battle from afar, And the thunder of the commanders and the shout of war."
(Job 39:19-25 LSB)
The Divine Manufacturer (v. 19-20)
God begins His interrogation by establishing His exclusive rights as the Creator.
"Do you give the horse his might? Do you clothe his neck with a mane? Do you make him leap like the locust? His splendid snorting is terrible." (Job 39:19-20)
The first question is a direct assault on human pride. "Do you give the horse his might?" The answer is, of course, a thunderous "No." Job, you are a man. You are dust. You did not forge this creature. You did not pour the strength into his muscles or the fire into his heart. This raw, explosive power is a direct gift from God. It is a delegated power, and it testifies to the un-delegated, infinite power of its source. We live in a world that believes power originates with man, with governments, with technology. God here reminds Job that all power, all might, all strength flows from His hand alone.
Then God moves from might to majesty. "Do you clothe his neck with a mane?" The Hebrew word is evocative, suggesting a quivering, a trembling, like thunder. It's not just hair; it is a garment of terrible glory. God is an artist, and He delights in beauty and adornment. He did not have to give the horse a mane, but He did so out of sheer, exuberant, creative joy. This is not the work of a utilitarian deity, a cosmic engineer who only cares about function. This is the work of a king who clothes His creation in splendor.
The questions continue, pressing the point home. "Do you make him leap like the locust?" This is a picture of explosive, sudden, almost frantic energy. And the result? "His splendid snorting is terrible." The very breath of this creature inspires terror. God is asking Job, "Did you design this? Did you engineer this combination of beauty and dread? Is this your handiwork?" The point is to establish the vast, unbridgeable chasm between the Creator and the creature. Job cannot even begin to comprehend the mind that would design such a thing, let alone claim to have made it.
Joyful Courage (v. 21-23)
Next, God describes the horse's character, a spirit completely alien to the cautious self-preservation of man.
"He paws in the valley and rejoices in his power; He goes out to meet the weapons. He laughs at dread and is not dismayed; And he does not turn back from the sword. The quiver rattles against him, The flashing spear and javelin." (Job 39:21-23 LSB)
This is a portrait of sheer, unadulterated joy in strength. "He paws in the valley and rejoices in his power." He is not just strong; he revels in his strength. He is eager for the conflict. He is not dragged into battle; "He goes out to meet the weapons." This is a direct contradiction of all our fallen instincts. We seek comfort. We seek safety. We avoid pain. This creature, as God designed him, charges headlong into the fray.
And what is his attitude toward mortal danger? "He laughs at dread and is not dismayed." This is one of the most astonishing phrases in all of Scripture. The horse laughs at fear. He treats the terror of battle as a joke. He is not simply brave; he is contemptuous of danger. The sword, the rattling quiver, the flashing spear, these things do not intimidate him. They are the backdrop for his glorious charge. God is showing Job a creature that embodies a spirit of fearless, joyful courage that Job, in his affliction, has lost. Job is consumed by dread, but God's creation laughs at it.
This is a profound lesson. God has woven this kind of courage into the fabric of His world. He is the author of it. And if He can put this spirit into an animal, what can He do for a man who trusts Him? This is a rebuke to our anxieties and a call to a more robust and warlike faith. We are to be those who, clothed in the righteousness of Christ, can laugh at the dread of sin, death, and the devil.
Unstoppable Fury (v. 24-25)
The description culminates in a picture of uncontrollable, battle-hungry rage.
"With shaking and rage he races over the ground, And he does not stand still at the sound of the trumpet. As often as the trumpet sounds he says, 'Aha!' And he scents the battle from afar, And the thunder of the commanders and the shout of war." (Job 39:24-25 LSB)
The language here is violent and intense. "With shaking and rage he races over the ground." The Hebrew for "races over" is literally "swallows the ground." He consumes the distance to the enemy with a furious passion. He is not a reluctant conscript; he is a zealot for the fight. The sound of the trumpet, the signal for battle, does not make him pause. It unleashes him.
And then we have his battle cry. When the trumpet sounds, "he says, 'Aha!'" This is not a word of fear or surprise. It is a guttural cry of recognition and relish. This is what he was made for. This is his element. He recognizes the call to war and answers it with a thunderous affirmation. He is not just an instrument of war; he is a participant. He "scents the battle from afar," like a predator smells its prey. He is attuned to the "thunder of the commanders and the shout of war."
God's final point to Job is this: "I made that. That untamable, glorious, terrifying, joyful, rage-filled creature is My idea. And Job, you are questioning My providential wisdom in your life? You think the world should be safe, predictable, and run according to your standards of comfort? Look at the horse. I delight in this kind of wild glory. And I am in charge. Trust me."
The God of the War Horse
So what are we to do with this? We are to do what Job did. After God finishes His speech from the whirlwind, Job repents in dust and ashes. He says, "I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees You" (Job 42:5). The answer to our suffering, our confusion, and our demands for justice is a fresh vision of the God who is.
This is not the tame, domesticated god of modern evangelicalism. This is not a celestial therapist whose only job is to affirm our feelings. This is the God who creates war horses that laugh at death. This is the God whose thoughts are not our thoughts, and whose ways are not our ways. His wisdom is wilder, deeper, and more terrifying than we can imagine. And that is our comfort. Our lives are not in the hands of a committee, or a blind cosmic process, or our own feeble selves. They are in the hands of the God who clothes the horse's neck with thunder.
The cross of Jesus Christ is the ultimate expression of this truth. To the world, it looked like a chaotic, meaningless tragedy. It was God's war horse, His own Son, charging into the valley of death. The spear was thrust into His side, the thunder of the commanders shouted for His crucifixion. And in the face of it all, He did not turn back from the sword. He laughed at the dread of death and hell, because He knew the Father who sent Him. He went out to meet the weapons of our sin and rebellion, and He conquered them.
Therefore, when we find ourselves in the whirlwind, when our lives are stripped bare and we are tempted to demand an explanation from God, we must remember the war horse. We must remember that the God who governs our trials is the same God who rejoices in untamable power and laughs at fear. He is not safe, but He is good. And our only proper response is to lay our hands on our mouths, repent of our arrogance, and say with the horse, and with the Son, "Aha!" We were made for this battle, and the one who gives the horse his might is the one who gives us the strength to endure, and to conquer.