Job Chapter 10

Job 10 — Eyes of Flesh, Hands of Clay

  1. The lawsuit of the formed Job refuses polite religion. “I loathe my life; I will give free utterance to my complaint” (English Standard Version). He asks God to “show me why you contend with me” (the Hebrew root riv means to prosecute a lawsuit). Then he turns creation into an argument: “Your hands fashioned and made me… Remember that you have made me like clay” (English Standard Version), and—most startling—“Did you not pour me out like milk and curdle me like cheese?” (New International Version). Ancient Near Eastern medicine often pictured the fetus as curdled milk; Job reaches back to his earliest unformed state to insist: If You shaped me with such tender skill, why unmake Your own artistry now?

The verbs are tactile. He says God “knit” him (likely the same root as Psalm 139:13), “clothed” him with flesh, “knit” bones and sinews. He is not appealing to bare power but to personal craftsmanship. Western readers may miss how audacious this is: Job invites the Maker to be consistent with His making. It is covenant logic pressed to the edge.

  1. “Do You have eyes of flesh?” Job’s most daring question is theological dynamite: “Have you eyes of flesh? Do you see as man sees? Are your days as the days of man?” (English Standard Version). Yesterday we noted Job’s longing for a mediator (ch. 9). Today he asks for something even stranger: a God who lives a human day.

Across the canon, the answer blooms: “The Word became flesh” (John 1:14), “He partook of flesh and blood” (Hebrews 2:14–18). The incarnation is the unanticipated reply to Job 10: God takes eyes of flesh and mortal days. Not because He lacked knowledge, but to gather our case into Himself and plead from inside our time. The only hand strong enough to deliver from God is God’s own hand stretched out in mercy (John 10:28–29; Romans 8:32). In Christ the Prosecutor becomes the Advocate.

  1. Un‑creation, again Job asks for a breath of relief before entering “the land of darkness and deep shadow… without order” (Job 10:21–22, English Standard Version). The phrase “without order” (from the Hebrew root s-d-r) evokes the opposite of Genesis’ ordering of chaos. We saw this “un‑creation” motif in ch. 3; here it darkens: even the “light is as darkness.” The word deep shadow (tsalmavet) is a compound of “shadow” and “death,” the same valley we know from Psalm 23:4 and the gloom that Isaiah 9:2 says will see a great light. Job stares into pre‑creation night and calls it home.

Gregory the Great read these lines morally—God’s hidden counsel drawing out hidden virtue. Calvin urged us to see faithful boldness rather than rebellion: Scripture preserves even Job’s suspicions (“You hid these things in your heart,” v. 13) so our prayers need not be airbrushed. Lament spoken to God is not unbelief; it is covenant speech.

Practice - Argue from creation: “You made me. Be to me what your making means.” - Bring your complaint to the One who now truly has “eyes of flesh.” He knows your day from inside it. - When the world feels “without order,” cling to the One who hovered over chaos and, on the cross, entered our tsalmavet to bring dawn (Isaiah 9:2).

Suggested hymn: Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence (ancient Liturgy of St. James) — the Holy One who takes mortal flesh to answer Job’s question.

Cross‑references - Genesis 2:7; Jeremiah 18:1–6 (potter and clay) - Psalm 139:13–16 (woven in the womb) - Psalm 23:4; Isaiah 9:2 (deep shadow) - John 1:14; Hebrews 2:14–18; Philippians 2:6–8 (God with eyes of flesh) - 1 Peter 4:19 (entrusting ourselves to a faithful Creator in suffering)

Prayer Faithful Creator, whose hands formed us in secret places, do not unmake what You have lovingly made. Take our bitter words as offerings of trust. Jesus, true God with eyes of flesh, stand in our dock and speak for us. Hover over our chaos, bring order to our night, and grant us a breath of joy before the dawn You have promised. Amen.

Narrated version of this devotional on Job Chapter 10