ORDERS TO THE MORNING

“Have you ever given orders to the morning,
or shown the dawn its place?” (38:12)

The Lord’s answer to Job assumes something of the form of a three-ring circus. “And now, for My next act . . .” he announces, taking bow after bow. In the first ring of this divine circus are the most primal elements of the created order— such immense and unsearchable realities as the earth itself, the sea, weather, light, and darkness. The second ring contains a carnival of animals, a marvelous parade of the Lord’s zoological genius ranging from the wild donkey to the soaring eagle, from the proud lion to the comical ostrich. As for the third and climactic ring, that one is reserved for the loftiest mysteries of all, the pièces de résistance of creation: Behemoth and Leviathan.

The image of the ring is an appropriate one, for the Lord’s purpose in trooping out all these wonders is to show that He is the one who encircles and controls them all. He is the Ringmaster of this awesome circus, and these are the vast spheres of His influence. Has He not “stretched a measuring line across [the earth]” (v. 5), “shut up the sea behind doors” (v. 8), and even built “gates” for “death” (v. 17)? All those forces that from man’s point of view seem so utterly wild and inscrutable, in the hands of the Lord are completely tame. He is the one who gives “orders to the morning,” who leads the dawn around like a dappled pony on a bridle.

Dawn, of course, is a powerful symbol. Every morning the sun comes up to banish the shadows and paint the world anew, and this faithful, daily recurrence is a pledge of the Lord’s ultimate victory over the forces of darkness. “For you who revere my name, the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its wings” (Mal. 4:2). To Job the Lord does not explain any of this symbolism directly, but when He speaks of the dawn “taking the earth by the edges and shaking the wicked out of it” (38:13), suddenly the rising of the sun comes to signify exactly what mankind has instinctively known it to signify all along: God’s final appearing, His Day of Judgment, and the renewal of all things.

Thus the Lord’s question to Job, “Have you ever given orders to the morning?” becomes a way of saying, “Can you, Job, by your own efforts, do anything at all to influence the timing of My judgment and deliverance? Through all the arguing and struggling you have done, have you managed to bring about any dawning in your heart? Have you been able to bend one little ray of light in your direction?” The answer is no. It is not Job’s struggling nor even the vehemence of his prayer that has brought on this visit from the Lord. Regardless of human efforts, the dawn comes at its own appointed time, and all we can do is to wait for it. Many pagan peoples have worshiped the sun, believing that their rites and sacrifices had a hand in keeping the bright orb up in the sky and calling it back every day. To us their childish folly is plain; but do we not make the same mistake when we try to manipulate our spiritual renewal? We can end up worshiping revival rather than the Lord Himself. We forget that it is up to God, and not up to us, to give orders to the morning.

This is how the Lord works with Job in these final chapters: taking the ordinary, everyday, stupendous objects of creation and parading them anew around the circus ring, He reminds Job of His sovereign power and glory. Similarly for us, when God speaks, He rarely tells us anything we have not heard before. Rather He just points to what is already there, whether in creation or in Scripture. The problems that have weighed so heavily upon us turn out to have answers that all along have been right under our noses, staring us in the face. The missing puzzle piece is one we have looked at and considered, many times, yet for some reason we have never picked it up. Before we can really see and understand the dawn for what it is, it takes the Lord Himself to point to it, much in the way that in the first chapter of Jeremiah He draws the prophet’s attention to the branch of an almond tree (probably one bursting with blossoms) and asks simply, “What do you see, Jeremiah?” How many times before, even that same day, must Jeremiah have seen and admired the beauty of a flowering almond in spring? But now this familiar sight becomes for him the word of the Lord. Now it is the burning bush.


Mason, M. (2002). The Gospel According to Job: An Honest Look at Pain and Doubt from the Life of One Who Lost Everything. Crossway.