Job 19:23-27 | More than Memories
Easter Sunrise | April 20, 2025
The text for our meditation this morning is the Old Testament reading from the Job, chapter 19. Job wants something we take for granted today. Listen to what he says:
“Oh that my words were written!
Oh that they were inscribed in a book!
Oh that with an iron pen and lead
they were engraved in the rock forever!
Job wants to write his words down. He longs to write in a way that you and I have a hard time understanding. Because we have cheap paper, we can jot down a note anytime, throw it away when we don’t need it anymore. Writing for us is pretty trivial.
But back then, writing was a much bigger deal. Paper was expensive, and so writing was considered fairly permanent. You would only write down what you wanted to last. Sometimes, they would even engrave words into a rock – that was definitely seen as permanent. It is very hard to erase a stone!1
And that’s why Job is so adamant about writing his words. He wants them to last. They are important words. They must endure. He knows that if he just says them without writing them down, they are not going to last.
Job knew all too well that things do not last. In a short amount of time, he had lost all of his wealth, all of his kids had died, he was covered with painful boils from head to toe – he knew that life didn’t last. We started the season of Lent by saying, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return” [Genesis 3:19]. Everything that Job had was reduced to dust. And Job took a piece of broken pottery with which to scrape himself while he sat in the ashes [Job 2:8]. Job knew the dust.
And you do too. You probably haven’t suffered as much as Job, but you know the dust. You know the pain of a loved one dying. You know the frustration when a project at work falls apart. You know the mess of a ruined relationship. You know that someday, you will be dust. No matter how hard you try, no matter how good your doctor, unless Jesus returns first, you will someday return to the dust.
What can you do about it? Our world tells us to be like Job. Carve your legacy in stone! Write your story in a book! If you won’t last, then make your memory last. Make your work endure. Make an impact, leave a legacy, what matters is knowing that you made a difference.
The problem is that this is not really comforting. It might be romantic to imagine your memory surviving even when you’re gone, but it doesn’t help you at all. You’ll be dust. You can fantasize about your legacy all you want, but someday you’ll realize that you’re just trying to make the best out of a bad situation. You’re just resigning yourself to the dust.
But that is not what Job does. That’s not why Job is writing. Listen again to what he wants to write.
For I know that my Redeemer lives,
and at the last he will stand upon the earth.
And after my skin has been thus destroyed,
yet in my flesh I shall see God,
whom I shall see for myself,
and my eyes shall behold, and not another.
My heart faints within me!
Job does not resign himself to the dust! He’s not just looking to have his words endure, he is looking for his very self to endure! He doesn’t take comfort in leaving a leaving a memory or writing a legacy. He hopes for a time when he will live again!
How is that possible? Job looks to someone he calls his redeemer.
A redeemer is one who buys back. In Old Testament times, if a person fell into poverty – even if it wasn’t his fault – he might have to sell himself into slavery. But his relative could buy him out of his slavery and bring him back to where he was. When he did this, he was called a “redeemer,” because he bought back the person who was trapped.
Job takes this concept and applies it to the whole world. Our world has fallen into something worse than poverty – sin. Rebellion against God. And this is our fault. It’s because of our rebellion that everything returns to dust. It’s because of our sin that we too will someday return to the dust.
But Job knows that there is a Redeemer. There is someone out there who wants to buy us back, to bring us out of our decay and trouble.
Job didn’t know his name. But we do. Jesus Christ is our redeemer. He buys us back. The price he paid was his blood. He laid down his very own life on the cross in order to buy our freedom from decay.
But he is not a dead redeemer – Job knows that a dead redeemer can’t buy us back from death. Today, he lives. He lives to forgive us, to remake us, to restore us.
We are not here today because Jesus’ words endured, or because his memory endured. We are here because Jesus himself endured! The man – the flesh and bone man – is not dust. He did not see corruption [Psalm 16:10]. He stands. He was laid in a tomb, but now he stands. Not just his legacy, not just his impact – Jesus Christ, the physical man – stands above it all.
Job says that at the last he will stand upon the earth. He’s looking forward to the day when Jesus will come again to earth. Except the word translated here “earth” is not the normal Hebrew word for “earth.” It literally means “dust.”
In other words, you will return to dust, but there is a God who stands over the dust. Jesus stands on your dust. At the end of time, he will stand on all your dust and command it to rise, and though you are scattered across the face of the entire earth, he will put you back together. He will breathe life into your body once more. We will return to dust, but we will not resign ourselves to that dust!
Today is the day to live like there is life beyond the grave – like there is a purpose for all you do, for all your pain, a meaning to your dust. And it starts with receiving the life Jesus gives.
He gives it in his word. The words of God, written throughout time is a living word, and it’s how he breathes life into you. He gives it to you in the Lord’s Supper, where he joins the flesh of Jesus to your flesh, making it immortal. It’s is an act of rebellion against anyone who tells you to just resign yourself to the dust. It’s a confession to the lost world around us who think that the best we can do is remember what was. Our Easter celebration is not just about remembering the past, it is about experiencing the future. It is not just about learning about what Jesus does, it is about him doing it again, for you.
Nobody knows if Job lived to see his words written down. Whether he did or not, he now knows they were not only inscribed not just in a book, but in God’s book, with an iron pen and lead, and engraved in the solid rock on which we stand, Jesus Christ.
These words will endure throughout time. Memorize them. Write them in stone. Remember them forever. “I know that my Redeemer lives.”
Let us confess this Easter hope in the words of the Apostles’ Creed.
I Know That My Redeemer Lives – LSB 461
I know that my Redeemer lives;
What comfort this sweet sentence gives!
He lives, He lives, who once was dead;
He lives, my ever-living head.
He lives triumphant from the grave;
He lives eternally to save;
He lives all-glorious in the sky;
He lives exalted there on high.
He lives to bless me with His love;
He lives to plead for me above;
He lives my hungry soul to feed;
He lives to help in time of need.
He lives to grant me rich supply;
He lives to guide me with His eye;
He lives to comfort me when faint;
He lives to hear my soul’s complaint.
He lives to silence all my fears;
He lives to wipe away my tears;
He lives to calm my troubled heart;
He lives all blessings to impart.
He lives, my kind, wise, heav’nly friend;
He lives and loves me to the end;
He lives, and while He lives, I’ll sing;
He lives, my Prophet, Priest, and King.
He lives and grants me daily breath;
He lives, and I shall conquer death;
He lives my mansion to prepare;
He lives to bring me safely there.
He lives, all glory to His name!
He lives, my Jesus, still the same;
Oh, the sweet joy this sentence gives:
I know that my Redeemer lives!
However, I believe it is possible, and that it was done. You would have to ask a historian for the details.