Job 23 — The Court I Cannot Find, the Gold I Cannot See
The longing for a courtroom Job does not ask for relief first; he asks for a hearing. He imagines stepping into the royal court, laying out his case, and being heard by God himself (vv. 3–7). He believes the Almighty would not crush a petitioner but attend, and that an upright man could “be acquitted forever.” This is not bargaining; it is covenantal protest, the same daring faith we traced earlier: an appeal from God to God. In Christ, this impulse is vindicated: “we have an advocate with the Father” (1 John 2:1). The Judge has provided the Defense.
The compass and the hidden God Job searches the four directions and finds only absence (vv. 8–9). A detail Western readers often miss: in the ancient Near East you faced the sunrise (east). Forward = east, back = west; left = north, right = south. Job is saying, “In every quarter of the world, the One I need eludes me.” Scripture knows this ache: “Truly you are a God who hides himself” (Isaiah 45:15), and yet “Where can I go from your Spirit?” (Psalm 139:7–12). Luther called this Deus absconditus—the hidden God—who remains God even when his face is turned. It is not unbelief to notice the veil.
Gold, not payoff Yesterday Eliphaz offered Job gold if he would return to Shaddai. Today Job says something braver: “But he knows the way that I take; when he has tested me, I will come forth as gold” (Job 23:10, New International Version). This is not prosperity for repentance; it is refinement through presence. The verb “tested” (tsaraf) is metallurgical: to smelt, to refine. Archaeology in the Arabah/Timna valleys—near Job’s world—has uncovered ancient furnaces and bellows; the refiner held the heat long enough for dross to surface, neither too brief nor too brutal. Job trusts that the hidden One is still a skilled Refiner.
Then the quiet line: “I have treasured the words of his mouth more than my daily bread” (Job 23:12, New International Version). “Treasured” (tsaphan) means to hide as a hoard. And there is wordplay: Job prizes God’s word more than his allotted “portion” (chûq), yet he trembles because God will complete what is “decreed” (also chûq) for him (v. 14). The same root—what is carved as a statute—is both nourishment and necessity. He lives by the Word (Deuteronomy 8:3), even when the decree is dark.
“He is One”—comfort and terror “He is one; who can turn him?” (v. 13, literally). Job brushes the Shema’s truth: the Lord is One—not divided, not fickle. Divine oneness means integrity of will. That steadiness is both anchor and avalanche to Job: if God’s purpose stands, then the darkness itself must, somehow, be part of a faithful purpose. The New Testament does not flatten this into a slogan; it shows us a hill. On Golgotha, God’s hiddenness becomes most visible. The decree that none could turn becomes mercy for sinners; the Refiner stands in the fire with us (cf. Malachi 3:2–3; 1 Peter 1:6–7).
Not silenced by the dark Job admits terror (vv. 15–17). Yet the final note is stubborn: the darkness has not cut him off. He keeps praying. That is today’s practice: treasure his words more than bread; ask for the court even when you cannot find the door; refuse the despair that says silence is wisdom. In Christ the veil is torn; the court is open.
Suggested cross-references - Psalm 142:3; Psalm 37:5–6; Psalm 1:6 - Isaiah 45:15; Isaiah 48:10 - Deuteronomy 8:3 - Malachi 3:2–3 - 1 John 2:1; 1 Peter 1:6–7; Romans 2:14–15
Hymn: “God Moves in a Mysterious Way” (Cowper), or “How Firm a Foundation” (note the stanza on fiery trials).
Prayer Hidden yet near God, Refiner of souls, hold me in the furnace you wisely set, neither shortening the heat nor forgetting my frame. Carve your word deeper than my fear; let your unchanging will be to me not a wall but a door. Give me courage to seek your court, and when I cannot find you, teach me to be found by you at the cross. Bring me out as gold, for Jesus’ sake. Amen.