My Redeemer Lives and Gives Me Hope

Job 7:17-21; 19:23-27

17 W hat is mankind that you make so much of them,

that you give them so much attention,

18 that you examine them every morning

and test them every moment?

19 Will you never look away from me,

or let me alone even for an instant?

20 If I have sinned, what have I done to you,

you who see everything we do?

Why have you made me your target?

Have I become a burden to you?

21 Why do you not pardon my offenses

and forgive my sins?

For I will soon lie down in the dust;

you will search for me, but I will be no more.”

23 “Oh, that my words were recorded,

that they were written on a scroll,

24 that they were inscribed with an iron tool on lead,

or engraved in rock forever!

25 I know that my redeemer lives,

and that in the end he will stand on the earth.

26 And after my skin has been destroyed,

yet in my flesh I will see God;

27 I myself will see him

with my own eyes—I, and not another.

How my heart yearns within me!

My Redeemer Lives and Gives Me Hope

We started our series on Job almost exactly a month ago. If you were worshiping with us then, you would have seen a very different Job than the one we have in front of us today. That Job was confident. He was stalwart. He was undaunted by adversity. Unphased by pain. He was a man who was described repeatedly – by God, no less! – as “blameless and upright, a man who feared God and shunned evil.” We even said that those are probably the words you would have expected to see on Job’s tombstone.

Today, we see a very different Job. He doesn’t stand quite so tall. He’s broken down and haggard. Physically, he wouldn’t be recognizable as the Job from a month ago. This Job has sores all over his body. He’s gaunt and malnourished. His skin has changed colors. And that’s just the physical side of things.

Mentally, Job is a mess. Spiritually, Job is floundering. His friends aren’t doing him any favors. His wife is trying to get him to curse God. As we saw a moment ago, he can hardly string together two consistent thoughts.

But as he sits there in dust and ashes with his body and his whole world crumbling around him, Job makes a case for a different tombstone. He doesn’t want to be remembered as “blameless and upright.” What he wants to be recorded, written down for generations to come, inscribed on his tombstone is this:

I know that my redeemer lives,

and that in the end he will stand on the earth.

And after my skin has been destroyed,

yet in my flesh I will see God;

I myself will see him

with my own eyes—I, and not another.

How my heart yearns within me!

Even in this hopeless situation – when Job can’t rely on his friends or his wife or his own emotional stability – Job finds hope in God: “I know that my redeemer lives.”

11 times, in 3 verses Job says, “I,” “me,” or “my”! Job’s confession is intensely personally. He’s not just talking about a god or the Savior. He’s rejoicing in his Redeemer.

As his life crumbled around him, it would have been easy for him to assume that God had lost sight of him. But even in this moment of suffering, Job knew that God had not forgotten. In fact, while Job was essentially in hospice care waiting to die, he found his peace not in a salve he could spread over his sores, not in the philosophy of his friends, but from a personal God who is faithful in keeping his promises.

Job says, “I know that my redeemer lives.” That’s a technical term. Sometimes, in the Old Testament, you hear this person called a kinsman redeemer, meaning that they’re kin, i.e. they’re family. This is someone who has a personal responsibility to have your back, someone who wants to rescue you from a bad situation and give you hope for the future.

In the past, a kinsman redeemer might marry his relative’s widow to make sure that she has someone to take care of her (for you Old Testament scholars, that’s what Boaz was for Ruth). A kinsman redeemer might vouch for you in a court of law, or seek justice for you in the event of your murder. They might bail you out of prison or pay your debts to get you out of slavery. Basically, a kinsman redeemer was someone who cared. Someone who was there for you.

Job didn’t have anyone like that in his life. He was all alone. There was no one there to help him. But he did have someone like that in his God. And even though Job had seemingly given up all hope that his life could ever get back on track, he still had hope for the future, because of who his true kinsman redeemer was.

Job wouldn’t have known him by this name, but Jesus is the perfect kinsman redeemer. He’s kin, i.e. family! He’s our brother! True God from eternity, but still true man in flesh and blood, i.e. Immanuel, God with us.

He’s our Redeemer. He cares. He’s there for us. He has our back. He wants to rescue us and give us hope for the future, and, he’s done it! When we were slaves to sin, stuck in a frail, human body, living in a broken and corrupt world, Jesus paid the price to set us free. He used his own body and blood as a ransom, to pay the debt that we owe. The sinless Son of God in human flesh and blood died on a cross of wood to save the world he loves. That includes you and me and Job and anyone who believes that my redeemer lives.

You know, a lot is made of the sacrifice that Jesus made for us. We talk about the cross a lot, and for good reason. But it’s an empty cross. There’s no body hanging on it anymore, because the cross isn’t the end of Jesus’ story. He didn’t just die for us; he rose again. Our Redeemer lives. He’s not rotting in a tomb somewhere. He’s sitting at the right hand of God, waiting for the day, as Job says, when he will stand on the earth once more.

It’s incredible, isn’t it, that in this situation where Job has basically written off the rest of his life as a lost cause, he still holds out hope for something that won’t happen until the end of time. In faith, Job is looking past his problems here and forward to a future with Jesus.

Now, I have to ask, are you that patient? Can you wait that long for God to solve your problems? Are you content with delayed gratification, or do you want God to solve your problems now?

There’s a movement in Christianity that’s all about the now. We sometimes call it the “theology of glory.” Some Christians believe and teach that if you just have strong enough faith, then God will wipe all your earthly problems away and you will live happily ever after. Your bank account will be full. Your children will be happy and healthy. Christianity can solve all your problems so that you can live your best life today.

But the problem is that we’re not promised that. We’re not promised health or wealth or happiness or success in life. We may live our whole lives without any of those things. We may be like Job, poor and childless, sitting in the dust and crying ourselves to sleep at night. But that doesn’t mean that we don’t have hope.

Our hope is in our Redeemer who hasn’t left us to fend for ourselves, but who has promised to return and, as Job says, to stand on the earth.

You may not catch it in our English translation, but what Job actually says here is that his Redeemer will stand on the dust, or you could even say, on the ashes. That’s where Job was! Remember, for seven days and seven nights Job sat in sackcloth and ashes as a sign of his sorrow. But Jesus was going to meet him in his sorrow and wipe all his tears away.

Dust is what was becoming of Job’s body. He could see it flaking and wasting away in front of him. He felt the curse of Adam in his body – the same curse that will come for all of us – “dust you are and to dust you will return.” So that when our bodies are eventually laid in the grave, you’ll have a hard time telling the difference between Pete and dirt. But that’s where Jesus will stand, because Jesus never wasted away. His body never saw decay, because our Redeemer lives, because there is a resurrection from the dead. And when he comes back, that’s what he’ll do. He’ll find you, wherever you are, and put you back together again, so that with your own eyes you will see your Savior.

In the end, our living Redeemer will stand on the earth. He’ll be here with us, victorious over sin, death and the grave, and ready to usher you body and soul out of this world and into his heavenly home, where there will be no more dust, no more ash, no more sorrow or pain, just Jesus and eternal life in his name.

That’s what gave Job comfort when none of his friends or family could. That’s what gave Job hope when he had every reason to give up. And, honestly, that’s one of the reasons I like the story of Job so much. He’s real! He’s not a fairytale believer. He doesn’t defy all the odds all the time. He’s like you and me. He doesn’t always understand what God is doing. Sometimes he questions God. Why me? Why now? Why this? Job is all over the map mentally, emotionally, spiritually. But the anchor that holds Job fast is this confession, “I know that my redeemer lives.”

My life may be full of ups and downs and loop-de-loops, but my redeemer is steady as the day is long. He gives hope for the future because of what he has done for me in the past, and, like Job, my heart yearns within me. I long for something better, for a life that is free from guilt and pain, where my body won’t betray me or my friends let me down. Where not even my own anxious thoughts can rob me of a moment’s peace. I yearn for that day – not in despair or dismay, but with a hope born of faith that clings to Job’s confession, that clings to Christ my Savior:

I know that my redeemer lives,

and that in the end he will stand on the earth.

And after my skin has been destroyed,

yet in my flesh I will see God;

I myself will see him

with my own eyes—I, and not another.

How my heart yearns within me!

Amen.