Hope Amid the Ashes
Scripture Reading: Job 18-21; Romans 3; Psalm 39
For I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last he will stand upon the earth. After my skin has thus been destroyed, yet in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see for myself, and my eyes shall behold, and not another. - Job 19:25-27 -
Jesus said, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” Job captured that idea and believed it.
I don’t think there’s a more astonishing moment in the book of Job than this one. Job is still sitting in ashes. He still doesn’t know why his life has unraveled. His friends are throwing accusations. His questions remain unanswered. But somehow, right here in the middle of his misery, Job sees something eternal.
He doesn’t just wish or hope vaguely, he knows. “I know that my Redeemer lives.”
Job uses the word Redeemer, which is go’el in Hebrew. That was the kinsman-redeemer, the one who had the right and responsibility to buy back what was lost, to set things right, to stand up for someone when no one else would. It’s a legal word, but also a deeply personal one.
And somehow, Job knows that he has a Redeemer. Not just an idea, not a vague hope, but a living Person who will one day stand on the earth—and stand for him.
Then Job says something even more shocking:
“After my skin has been thus destroyed, yet in my flesh I shall see God.”
Think about that. He fully expects to die. His body will decay. But still—he will see God. Not spiritually or symbolically. Not with borrowed eyes. Job says, “My eyes shall behold, and not another.”
Here, centuries before Christ, Job is declaring what we now know with clarity: that there will be a resurrection, and there is a Redeemer who stands on both sides of that grave.
As Christians, we read this through the lens of the gospel. Jesus Christ is the Redeemer Job longed for. He’s the One who stands in the dust, who entered our suffering, who died and rose again so that in our flesh, we too shall see God.
If Job could say that from the middle of a broken world, covered in sores and surrounded by foolish counselors, we ought to be able to say it with even greater confidence.
I know that my Redeemer lives. And one day, my eyes—not someone else’s—will see Him.
Let that hope carry you through whatever ash heap you find yourself in today.
