The Untamable Argument: God's Closing Statement
Introduction: The Courtroom of Creation
We come now to the climax of God’s speech from the whirlwind. Job has spent the better part of thirty chapters demanding his day in court. He has maintained his integrity, he has protested his innocence, and he has called for God to appear and answer his charges. And then, God does appear. But He does not enter the courtroom as the defendant. He takes the witness stand, the judge’s bench, and the prosecutor’s table all at once. He does not answer Job’s questions; He questions Job. He does not explain His ways; He reveals His nature.
After parading before Job the wonders of the cosmos, the mysteries of meteorology, and the wild freedom of the mountain goat and the war horse, God brings out His two final exhibits. First, there was Behemoth, a picture of immense, untamable power on the land. And now, He brings forth Leviathan from the deep. This is not merely a zoology lesson. This is God’s closing argument, and it is designed to leave Job, and us, utterly speechless before the staggering, terrifying, and glorious sovereignty of the Almighty.
We live in an age that has domesticated God. Our God is a tame God, a manageable deity who fits neatly into our therapeutic categories and our political agendas. He is a God who would never offend, a God whose chief end is to affirm our self-esteem. The God of Job 41 is not that God. This God is wild. This God is dangerous. This God is utterly and completely in charge. And the point of this whole terrifying display is not to crush Job, but to liberate him. It is to liberate him from the unbearable burden of trying to run the universe from his ash heap. It is to show him that the world is not a machine that has malfunctioned, but a drama authored by a playwright of infinite wisdom and power, who knows exactly what He is doing.
Leviathan is the final argument. He is the creature that embodies all the raw, uncontrollable power of the created order that refuses to submit to man. He is a walking, swimming, fire-breathing polemic against human pride. And God’s point is devastatingly simple: if you cannot even handle one of My creatures, what business do you have questioning Me?
The Text
“Can you draw out Leviathan with a fishhook? Or press down its tongue with a cord? Can you put a rope in its nose Or pierce its jaw with a hook? Will it make many supplications to you, Or will he speak to you soft words? Will it cut a covenant with you? Will you take it for a slave forever? Will you play with it as with a bird, Or will you bind it for your young women? Will the traders bargain over it? Will they divide it among the merchants? Can you fill its skin with harpoons, Or its head with fishing spears? Place your hand on it; Remember the battle; you will not do that again! Behold, his expectation is a lie; Will he be laid low even at the sight of it? No one is so fierce that he dares to arouse it; Who then is he that can stand before Me? Who has given to Me that I should repay him? Whatever is under the whole heaven is Mine.”
(Job 41:1-11 LSB)
Can You Fish for a Dragon? (vv. 1-2)
God begins with a series of sarcastic, rhetorical questions designed to highlight man’s utter impotence before this creature.
"Can you draw out Leviathan with a fishhook? Or press down its tongue with a cord? Can you put a rope in its nose Or pierce its jaw with a hook?" (Job 41:1-2)
The imagery is almost comical. God asks Job, the great man of the East, if he has a fishing pole strong enough for this one. Can you go down to the sea with your tackle box and land this beast? The hook, the cord, the rope in the nose, these are all the standard tools for catching and domesticating animals. You can do this with a fish or an ox. But with Leviathan? The very idea is absurd. This creature is beyond the scope of all human technology and technique.
Whether Leviathan is a super-crocodile, a mythological sea dragon, or some kind of now-extinct dinosaur is beside the point. The point is what he represents: a dimension of creation that is entirely outside of human control. Man, in his pride, thinks he is the measure of all things. He thinks he can tame nature, harness its power, and make it serve his purposes. God here presents him with a creature that laughs at his efforts. This is a direct assault on the anthropocentric worldview. The world was not made primarily for you to manage. It was made for God’s glory, and part of that glory is displayed in things that are wild, untamable, and terrifying to you.
Can You Reason with a Monster? (vv. 3-5)
If you cannot conquer him with force, perhaps you can negotiate with him. God continues the mockery.
"Will it make many supplications to you, Or will he speak to you soft words? Will it cut a covenant with you? Will you take it for a slave forever? Will you play with it as with a bird, Or will you bind it for your young women?" (Job 41:3-5 LSB)
The scene God paints is ludicrous. Will Leviathan come to you, begging for mercy? Will he whisper sweet nothings in your ear to placate you? Will he sign a treaty with you, agreeing to the terms of his surrender? This is the language of diplomacy and covenant. This is how men deal with one another. But you cannot reason with a force of nature like this. You cannot make a pet out of him. You can’t put him in a cage for your daughters to play with like a parakeet.
This is a profound theological point. Job has been trying to force God into a covenantal lawsuit. He wants to reason with God, to debate his case, to get God to agree to his terms. God’s response, through the illustration of Leviathan, is to show Job how out of his depth he is. You cannot even get one of My creatures to the bargaining table, and you think you can summon Me? You think you can bind the Almighty with your legal arguments? The distance between Job and Leviathan is a faint shadow of the infinite distance between Job and God. This is meant to induce humility. Man is not God’s peer. We do not negotiate with Him. We worship Him.
Can You Commercialize Chaos? (vv. 6-8)
If Leviathan cannot be captured for service or sport, perhaps he can be captured for profit. God dismisses this as well.
"Will the traders bargain over it? Will they divide it among the merchants? Can you fill its skin with harpoons, Or its head with fishing spears? Place your hand on it; Remember the battle; you will not do that again!" (Job 41:6-8 LSB)
This is the final human enterprise: commerce. Can you hunt this creature, process it, and sell its parts at the market? The answer is a resounding no. His hide is impervious to your weapons. The very thought of trying to subdue him is terrifying. God gives a stark warning: "Place your hand on it; Remember the battle; you will not do that again!" Just one encounter is enough. The man who tries to fight Leviathan will be so thoroughly traumatized that he will never entertain the thought again.
This is a picture of the raw, untamed evil and chaos that exists in the world. Sin is not a small problem that can be managed with a few self-help techniques. The devil is not a cartoon character in red pajamas that you can bargain with. Evil is a Leviathan. It is a devouring monster. And your own strength is laughably insufficient to deal with it. The man who thinks he can trifle with sin, who thinks he can manage his temptations and dabble in a little bit of darkness, is the man who has never truly felt the teeth of the monster. One real battle with the powers of darkness is enough to teach you that you need a rescuer, a champion who can do what you cannot.
The Unanswerable Conclusion (vv. 9-11)
God now drives the argument home, moving from the creature to the Creator. This is the very heart of the lesson.
"Behold, his expectation is a lie; Will he be laid low even at the sight of it? No one is so fierce that he dares to arouse it; Who then is he that can stand before Me? Who has given to Me that I should repay him? Whatever is under the whole heaven is Mine." (Job 41:9-11 LSB)
The hope of conquering Leviathan is a lie. The mere sight of him is enough to undo a man. No one is foolish enough to provoke this creature. And then comes the punchline, the question that resolves the entire book of Job: "Who then is he that can stand before Me?"
The logic is irrefutable. It is an argument from the lesser to the greater. If you, Job, a mere man, are terrified and undone by one of My creatures, how can you possibly think you have the standing to contend with Me, the one who made him? If you cannot handle the pet, what makes you think you can handle the Master?
This is the end of all human pretensions to autonomy. This is the end of our attempts to put God in the dock. We have no standing. We have no case. We have no power. We are creatures. He is the Creator. And that Creator/creature distinction is the foundation of all sanity, all wisdom, and all true worship.
God concludes with two final declarations of His absolute sovereignty.
"Who has given to Me that I should repay him? Whatever is under the whole heaven is Mine." (Job 41:11 LSB)
This demolishes the entire theological framework of Job and his friends. They all operated on a principle of strict, predictable retribution. They believed God was their debtor. If they were righteous, God owed them blessing. If they were wicked, God owed them cursing. Job’s complaint was that God had defaulted on His debt. God’s answer is that He owes no one anything. No one can give God anything that He does not already own. You cannot put God in your debt. Our righteousness is a gift from Him. Our obedience is enabled by Him. Our very breath is on loan from Him. "Whatever is under the whole heaven is Mine." He is the owner of everything. He is the source of everything. He is beholden to no one. Grace is not a transaction; it is a gift from a sovereign who owns the entire store.
Christ, Our Leviathan-Slayer
This chapter is designed to leave us in a state of awe and terror before a God of absolute power. But if we stop there, we have not understood the whole counsel of God. For this is not the last word on Leviathan. The Scriptures tell us of another encounter with this beast.
In Psalm 74, Asaph cries out to God, remembering His past works of salvation: "It was you who split open the sea by your power; you broke the heads of the monster in the waters. It was you who crushed the heads of Leviathan and gave him as food to the creatures of the desert" (Psalm 74:13-14). And Isaiah prophesies a future day of judgment: "In that day the LORD with His hard and great and strong sword will punish Leviathan the fleeing serpent, Leviathan that twisted serpent; and He will slay the dragon that is in the sea" (Isaiah 27:1).
Leviathan is more than just a big crocodile. He is a symbol of the sea, of chaos, of the powers of darkness, of Satan himself, that "ancient serpent" (Rev. 12:9). The very thing that God tells Job is impossible for man to do, God says that He has done and will do. Man cannot put a hook in the jaw of Leviathan. But God can.
And He did. On a Roman cross, it looked for all the world like Leviathan was winning. The dragon had seemingly devoured the Son of God. The darkness covered the land. But in that moment of apparent defeat, Jesus Christ was putting a hook in the jaw of the serpent. He was descending into the deep, into the heart of the monster’s territory, and crushing his head from the inside out. He disarmed the principalities and powers and made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them in Himself (Col. 2:15).
The answer to the problem of a world with Leviathan in it is not a God who explains everything, but a God who comes down and slays the dragon. The answer to Job’s suffering is not a philosophical treatise, but a personal Savior. God’s response to Job is to reveal His own untamable power. God’s response to us is to reveal that same power, channeled through the cross and resurrection of His Son, Jesus Christ, who did what no man could do. He stood before the ultimate Leviathan, and He won.