Job 9:32–35

Job 9:32 — "For he is not a man, as I am, that I should answer him"

Job has just acknowledged God's incomparable power and wisdom (9:1–31), using legal language throughout: he speaks of "answering," of making his "case," of a "judgment" (mishpat). Now he names the central problem with devastating clarity: the courtroom is radically asymmetrical. God is not a man. Job cannot summon God as one summons an equal before a human tribunal. The Hebrew verb 'a'anenu ("I should answer him") carries forensic weight — it is the language of legal reply. Job is not denying God's justice; he is lamenting the impossibility of accessing it on human terms. The gap is ontological, not merely moral. God's transcendence itself is the obstacle. This verse thus contains within it the entire Incarnation problem: how does a creature address the Creator on equal footing?

Job 9:33 — "There is no umpire between us"

The Hebrew word here, mokiah, is pivotal. It is variously translated "umpire," "arbiter," "daysman," or "mediator." The root yakah means to decide, adjudicate, or reprove — it is used in Isaiah 11:3–4 of the messianic king who "shall judge" with perfect discernment. The mokiah Job craves is not simply a go-between or diplomatic ambassador; he is a figure who can lay his hand on both parties — one who possesses sufficient standing before God and sufficient solidarity with man to bridge the ontological chasm named in verse 32. The phrase "between us" (beinenu) — between Job and God — defines the void that only the Incarnation will fill. Job articulates a need he cannot yet name: a figure who is simultaneously fully divine and fully human. The Septuagint renders mokiah as mesitēs — the very word Paul uses in 1 Timothy 2:5 ("there is one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus"). This is not a coincidence of translation; it is the Spirit moving through language toward its fulfillment.

Job 9:34 — "Let him take his rod away from me"

Job's plea shifts momentarily to the divine "rod" (shebet) — the instrument of chastisement that overwhelms him. He is not asking to escape accountability; he is asking for the conditions under which fair dialogue might be possible. The "rod" here is not arbitrary cruelty but the sheer weight of divine holiness bearing down on finite, suffering humanity. The image anticipates the theological problem of how fallen humanity can approach a holy God at all — the same problem addressed by the sacrificial and priestly system of the Mosaic covenant, and answered definitively in the priesthood of Christ. The desired mediator (v. 33) and the removal of the rod (v. 34) are linked: only a true mediator can transform the rod of judgment into the staff of the Good Shepherd (Ps 23:4).

Job 9:35 — "Then I would speak, and not fear him"

The consequence of a true mediator's presence is freedom of speech — parrhēsia in the Greek spiritual tradition, meaning bold, filial confidence before God. Job does not want to escape God; he wants to approach God without being crushed by the asymmetry of their encounter. This is the desire for prayer as genuine dialogue, not trembling submission to an inscrutable power. Spiritually, verse 35 describes the condition of the baptized Christian, who through Christ the Mediator has received "a spirit of adoption as sons, by which we cry 'Abba! Father!'" (Rom 8:15). What Job longs for in anguish, the Christian possesses by grace — though the Church is always being called deeper into that confidence.

Catholic tradition has long recognized in Job 9:32–35 one of the Old Testament's most explicit prophetic anticipations of the Incarnation and the mediatorial office of Christ. St. Gregory the Great, in his monumental Moralia in Job, reads the "umpire" of verse 33 as a direct figure of Christ: "Who but the Mediator of God and men could lay his hand upon both? For by His Divinity He touches the Father, by His flesh He touches us." Gregory's insight is not merely allegorical embellishment; it reflects the deeper Catholic principle of the sensus plenior — that the Holy Spirit inscribes in human words a meaning that transcends the human author's conscious intention, pointing forward to Christ.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC §§ 480, 846) affirms that Christ, as the one Mediator, uniquely unites the divine and human natures in one Person — precisely the mokiah Job requires: one who can "lay his hand" on both God and man. The Council of Chalcedon (451 AD) defined what Job's anguish implicitly required: a mediator who is truly God and truly man, without confusion, mixture, or separation.

St. Thomas Aquinas (Summa Theologiae III, q. 26) explains that Christ's mediation is not merely diplomatic but ontological: He is the "medium" between God and creation in His very Person. Job's courtroom language also resonates with the priestly dimension of Christ's mediation. The Letter to the Hebrews (4:14–16) — the New Testament's fullest development of Christ's high priesthood — virtually echoes Job: because we have a High Priest who has "passed through the heavens," we can "approach the throne of grace with confidence" (meta parrhēsias). The "rod" feared by Job is transformed into mercy; the fearful silence becomes the bold prayer of children before their Father.

Job 9:32–35 speaks with startling immediacy to anyone who has ever felt that God is simply too vast, too silent, or too holy to be approached — especially in suffering. Contemporary Catholics can experience this in seasons of grief, unanswered prayer, or spiritual desolation: God feels unreachable, and we lack the standing to demand an explanation.

The concrete spiritual application is this: the mediator Job could only long for, you already have. When suffering makes God feel like an overwhelming, silent judge, the Catholic is not left in Job's predicament. The Eucharist is the sacrament of Christ's mediation made tangible — at every Mass, the one Mediator stands between humanity and the Father, offering the sacrifice that silences the "rod" of judgment and opens the space for filial speech. The Confiteor and the Gloria are the liturgical fulfillment of Job's cry in verse 35: we speak freely, and we are not crushed.

Practically: when desolation makes prayer feel impossible, return to the Eucharist and to Christ as High Priest. You do not need to resolve the gap between yourself and God before approaching Him — the Mediator has already done that. Pray Job's own words as a prayer: name the longing, and then place it in the hands of the one who has already answered it.