The Agony of a Broken Man (Job 3:1-10)

Introduction:

Good morning, Church. It’s my pleasure and a true blessing to be here again with you this week. I praise God for every opportunity to discuss the oracles of God with you. Would you pray with me?

(Prayer) - Amen

If you have your bibles, please open them to the book of Job, chapter 3, we will be reading verses 1-10. When you get there, if you are able, please stand. Hear the word of the Lord:

After this Job opened his mouth and cursed the day of his birth. And Job said:

"Let the day perish on which I was born, and the night that said, 'A man is conceived.' Let that day be darkness! May God above not seek it, nor light shine upon it. Let gloom and deep darkness claim it. Let clouds dwell upon it; let the blackness of the day terrify it. That night—let thick darkness seize it! Let it not rejoice among the days of the year; let it not come into the number of the months. Behold, let that night be barren; let no joyful cry enter it. Let those curse it who curse the day, who are ready to rouse up Leviathan. Let the stars of its dawn be dark; let it hope for light, but have none, nor see the eyelids of the morning, because it did not shut the doors of my mother’s womb, nor hide trouble from my eyes."

Thus the reading of God’s Holy Word, you may be seated.

Sermon:

If you've ever stubbed your toe in the dark, or worse, stepped on a lego, you know pain has a way of making you reevaluate your life choices. But imagine the kind of pain that makes you question the very day you were born. That’s where we find Job. He’s not asking, 'Why did I stub my toe?' He’s asking, 'Why do I exist at all?'"

The great Baptist pastor Charles Spurgeon, often called the 'Prince of Preachers,' knew a thing or two about suffering. He once said, 'I am the subject of depressions of spirit so fearful that I hope none of you ever get to such extremes of wretchedness as I go to.' Spurgeon reminds us that even the godliest of men can walk through dark valleys. And that’s where we find Job in chapter 3—not a hero standing tall, but a broken man bowing low. This chapter invites us to wrestle with sorrow, not in despair but in the light of a good and loving and almghty God."

Before we start in chapter 3, here’s an extremely brief recap of Job 1–2: Job, the most upright man in his time, has lost everything—his wealth, his children, his health. Now, in chapter 3, after seven days of silent grief with his friends, Job opens his mouth, and what comes out isn’t pretty. So, let’s explore what Job says and what it teaches us about lament, suffering, and the sovereignty of God.

Verse 1 "After this Job opened his mouth and cursed the day of his birth." Job’s silence breaks. After enduring overwhelming grief, he finally speaks—not to curse God but to curse the day he was born. Let’s pause here to consider Job’s silence. Seven days and seven nights of silence (Job 2:13) alongside his friends. In our world, silence is uncomfortable, isn’t it? We fill it with noise, distractions, and even meaningless words. But silence has its place in mourning and lament. Ecclesiastes 3:7 tells us there’s “a time to keep silence and a time to speak.” Those seven days reflect the depth of Job’s loss and allow the reality of his suffering to settle in. How often do we give ourselves or others that kind of space to process grief before rushing to speak? Let’s learn from Job that lamentation sometimes begins in silence.

Job’s words are raw, honest, and unfiltered. Lament is a biblical response to suffering. Consider the Psalms of lament (Psalm 13, 22). God does not rebuke Job for crying out, just as He doesn’t rebuke David or Jeremiah for their laments (Jer. 20:14-18). Goodness, we have a whole book in our Bibles called Lamentations!

Now, some of y’all probably grew up in churches where you were told to "put on a happy face for Jesus." That’s not Job. Job didn’t slap on a fake smile and say, "God is good all the time!" He said, "I wish I’d never been born." That’s real. Christians must learn to lament biblically, bringing their sorrows to God instead of bottling them up or pretending they don’t exist.

Lament doesn’t mean we don’t trust God. On the contrary, biblical lament presupposes faith because it brings pain to the very One who can do something about it. What would it look like in your life to turn your deepest sorrow into a prayer of lament? How might our church reflect the heart of God if we gave each other permission to grieve like Job did?

Verses 2 “and Job said...” At first glance, verse 2 seems like a simple transition, but its significance should not be overlooked. These three words mark the moment when Job breaks his silence. After seven days and seven nights of wordless mourning, Job finally speaks.

Consider the weight of these words. This moment underscores the importance of lament as a spiritual act. By speaking, Job demonstrates that he is engaging with his pain rather than retreating into despair. This is a vital lesson for us as believers: silence can be appropriate, even healing for a time, but there comes a moment to cry out—to God, to trusted friends, or even to ourselves. Job’s speech reminds us that it is not unspiritual to express our anguish honestly. Ecclesiastes 3 reminds us there is a time to speak, and this is Job’s time.

Notice what Job does not say: he does not curse God, nor does he renounce his faith. Despite his immense suffering, Job directs his frustration and sorrow toward his circumstances, not toward the God who permitted them. This restraint is significant, especially in light of Satan’s accusation that Job would curse God to His face (Job 1:11). When we face trials, how do we respond? Do we turn against God, or do we bring our honest questions to Him in faith? Job’s lament teaches us that honest wrestling is part of a faithful walk with God.

Verse 3 “Let the day perish on which I was born, and the night that said, 'A man is conceived.'" Job curses the day of his birth and the night of his conception. In his pain, he wishes those moments could be erased entirely. This is hyperbolic language, revealing the depth of his despair.

Consider this: Job’s words echo the struggles of people throughout history who have faced overwhelming pain. Think of the prophet Elijah, who under the broom tree cried, “It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life” (1 Kings 19:4). Even Jonah, after God’s mercy on Nineveh, said, “It is better for me to die than to live” (Jonah 4:3). These examples show us that godly people can and do experience deep despair. But God met Elijah with nourishment and rest, and He engaged Jonah with correction. God never leaves His people to flounder in their hopelessness. If you’re here today feeling like Job, Elijah, or Jonah, take heart. God hasn’t abandoned you either.

Job’s words reflect the futility and frustration of living in a fallen world. Though he exaggerates, his sentiment mirrors the groaning of creation in Romans 8:22. “For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now.” Spurgeon brings clarity here: "It is not wrong to cry in the bitterness of our souls, but let us take heed of quarreling with God. Job cursed the day of his birth, but he did not curse his God." Job’s despair reflects human blindness to the hidden purposes of God: "The faithful, even while they grieve and weep, cannot forget the power of God’s hand in their affliction."

Beloved, have you ever felt like Job? Like your life has no purpose in the midst of pain? This verse reminds us that expressing such feelings doesn’t mean you’ve lost faith—it means you’re human. Even Christ on the cross cried out “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani, My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” But remember, Job’s lament is directed at the day, not the One who ordained it.

Verses 4 and 5"Let that day be darkness! May God above not seek it, nor light shine upon it. Let gloom and deep darkness claim it. Let clouds dwell upon it; let the blackness of the day terrify it." Job intensifies his curse, calling for darkness to swallow the day of his birth. He prays that God would remove even the memory of that day, rejecting its light and life. Job’s poetic speech is not theological instruction but a reflection of his soul’s agony. He speaks of it as though it was a living entity, like it had volition, and wishing death upon it. The language of “gloom” and “deep darkness” evokes imagery of chaos and judgment, reminiscent of the plague of darkness in Egypt (Exodus 10:21–23).

Job’s lament demonstrates the human longing to escape suffering, yet he fails to grasp that even the darkness is under God’s sovereign rule (Psalm 139:11-12). “If I say, 'Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light about me be night,’ even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you.” Church we must never forget that it is God who ordains both the light and the darkness. The good times and the bad times. When life is easy and when it is difficult, He is reigning supreme. Spurgeon again here offers excellent pastoral insight. "The darkness Job calls for could not be darker than the anguish in his soul. But how sweet to know that when we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, God’s light is still with us."

Verses 6 and 7 "That night—let thick darkness seize it! Let it not rejoice among the days of the year; let it not come into the number of the months. Behold, let that night be barren; let no joyful cry enter it." Job calls for the night of his conception to be “barren,” devoid of celebration. He wants it to be unfruitful, erased from time and memory. The guy wants to cancel his own birthday. The language of barrenness is significant. In the ancient world, barrenness was seen as a curse, and Job desires that curse to overshadow his beginning.

Job’s wish reflects his limited understanding of God’s purposes. He sees no fruit from his life, but we, as readers, know that Job’s suffering is part of a grander story. Job is unaware of the entire spiritual realm we read about in the first 2 chapers. God has, and does permit suffering and lamentation in order to show us our own weakness, and in turn to strengthen our reliance on Him. Job’s words resonate with our darkest moments, but they also remind us that God is not finished with us yet.

God’s plans are greater than our pain. However, I want to contrast that for a moment to a common phrase we hear. How often have you heard or been told “God has a wonderful plan for your life”? Few phrases get me worked up like this one. While it may be true that God has a plan for our lives, those plans do not always fall into what we might call the “wonderful” category.

God does allow some to prosper. And He allows others to suffer. And at times, some people suffer unto death. God doesn’t always answer our prayers with yes. Many people will have considerably more miserable lives than us. You are not promised a life of ease, comfort, success, health, wealth, or prosperity. When God seeks to prosper us, He is speaking to our spiritual life. Our love and affection for Him and our ability to obey and conform to His image. So, don’t be confused.

Beloved, as we hear Job’s lament, let us not stop with the despair. Job’s words reflect real pain, but the light of God’s sovereignty shines even in the darkest corners of this chapter. Job’s cry for barrenness does not erase the truth that every moment of his life, including this one, is held in the hands of a good and sovereign God.

Job’s poetic cries teach us that suffering often distorts our perspective, making us see our days as purposeless. But God is always at work, even in the shadows. While Job longs to erase his day, God ordained that day for His purposes. Job’s existence, like ours, is not accidental but intentional. Job cursed the day of his birth, but Christ stepped into our world to redeem every day. The same God who ordained Job’s birth also ordained Christ’s death for our salvation. Amen?

Verse 8 "Let those curse it who curse the day, who are ready to rouse up Leviathan." In this verse, Job invokes a striking image. He calls upon those “who curse the day” to bring their powers against the day of his birth. These were likely professional cursers—figures in ancient cultures believed to have the ability to invoke calamity, reverse blessings, or even disrupt creation itself. Job is saying, “Let the experts of cursing handle this!”

Now, this may seem odd to us, but it highlights the depth of Job’s despair. He’s not just expressing sorrow—he’s calling for cosmic undoing. The mention of “rouse up Leviathan” adds a layer of complexity. Leviathan, a sea monster often symbolizing chaos or untamed power, appears later in Job (chapter 41) as a creature under God’s control. At this point, Job invokes Leviathan as a symbol of destruction and chaos, wishing it to rise and swallow the day of his birth.

Let’s pause and reflect on this: Job, in his suffering, longs to harness the forces of chaos to obliterate the day of his existence. Yet, as John Calvin observes, "Even in Job’s appeal to chaos, the sovereignty of God remains unshaken. For Leviathan, no matter how fearsome, is but a creature under God’s dominion." Job’s lament reminds us that, no matter how much despair calls for disorder, God’s order cannot be undone.

Theologically, Leviathan serves as a reminder of human limitation. Job may wish to summon chaos, but he cannot. And praise God for that, because imagine a world where our emotional outbursts had the power to undo God’s plans! Spurgeon captures this truth beautifully: “When we wrestle with sorrow and call for ruin, let us be thankful that God hears our cries but does not grant our rash requests.”

Dear Church, we may not curse our birthdays or call upon Leviathan, but haven’t we all, at some point, wished to undo what God has allowed? Let Job remind us that even the darkest forces are under God’s authority. Leviathan is not Job’s enemy—Satan is, and even Satan is on a leash. God remains in control, even when life feels uncontrollable.

Verse 9 "Let the stars of its dawn be dark; let it hope for light, but have none, nor see the eyelids of the morning." Here, Job continues his poetic curse. He longs for the stars of that fateful night to be extinguished. He personifies the night, as though it could “hope for light” and be disappointed. Job desires perpetual darkness to shroud the moment of his conception, wishing it would never see the break of dawn.

The imagery here is rich. "The stars of its dawn" evokes the beauty of God’s creation—the orderly heavens declaring His glory (Psalm 19:1). Job, in his despair, wishes to snuff out that beauty as it relates to his own existence. This reflects the distortion that suffering can bring: Job no longer sees himself as part of God’s good creation but as a mistake to be erased.

John Gill notes, "This curse is not against the stars themselves but against the day that brought him forth into a life of misery. Job would rather see that day shrouded in eternal night than to have lived to see such affliction." What Job forgets in this moment, and what we often forget, is that the stars of creation continue to shine for a reason: they remind us of God’s faithfulness.

Church, let me ask you: Have you ever felt like Job, longing for perpetual darkness because you couldn’t see the light of hope? I know some who have. Remember this: the God who created the stars also sustains them. As Psalm 147:4 says, “He determines the number of the stars; he gives to all of them their names.” If God cares for the stars, how much more does He care for you?

And let’s not overlook the phrase “nor see the eyelids of the morning.” This is a poetic way of describing the first light of dawn. It’s a beautiful image—morning as a person slowly waking up, their eyelids opening to reveal the day. Job wants that day to remain asleep forever, never awakening to light. But church, we know that God’s mercies are new every morning (Lamentations 3:22-23). Even when we cannot see it, the dawn is a gift, a reminder that God’s light still shines.

Verse 10 "Because it did not shut the doors of my mother’s womb, nor hide trouble from my eyes." Here, Job gives the reason for his curse: the night of his conception failed to prevent his existence. He wishes the doors of his mother’s womb had been shut, sparing him from the suffering he now endures. This is the climax of Job’s lament—a cry of despair over the life he never asked for and the pain he cannot escape.

The phrase “shut the doors of my mother’s womb” is a vivid metaphor. Job is essentially saying, “I wish I had been stillborn.” This echoes the laments of other biblical figures, such as Jeremiah, who cursed the day of his birth in similar terms (Jeremiah 20:14-18). It’s a raw, honest expression of pain, and yet it’s not blasphemous. Job is not cursing God; he’s cursing his own existence.

John Calvin addresses this verse with pastoral wisdom: "In his anguish, Job speaks as though life itself were a burden too great to bear. Yet even in his lament, we see the restraint of a heart that does not charge God with wrongdoing." Calvin reminds us that while Job’s words may seem shocking, they are not sinful—they are the cries of a broken man who still reveres his Creator.

And what about the phrase “nor hide trouble from my eyes”? Job laments that his birth allowed him to see the “trouble” of life. But church, let’s flip this on its head for a moment. Yes, life brings trouble—but it also brings grace. Spurgeon once said, "Had Job seen the end from the beginning, he would not have wished himself unborn, for God’s purposes were full of tender mercy."

Friends, this verse forces us to confront a hard truth: life is filled with trouble. Jesus Himself said in John 16:33, “In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” Job couldn’t see the victory beyond his pain, but we can.

Let me challenge you: Are you letting the troubles of life blind you to the greater purposes of God? Job wished for nonexistence, but God had a plan for his existence—a plan to glorify Himself and bless Job in the end. You, too, are part of God’s plan. And while suffering may cloud your vision, trust that the One who formed you in your mother’s womb (Psalm 139:13) is the same One who walks with you in the valley of the shadow of death (Psalm 23:4).

Conclusion:

As we step back from Job’s lament, what can we take away from this raw, poetic outpouring of sorrow? How do we, as believers, reconcile such profound suffering with our faith in a sovereign and loving God? Let me leave you with three key truths:

1. God is Big Enough for Your Pain:

Job’s words may seem shocking to us. He curses the day of his birth, calls for cosmic chaos, and wishes for darkness to undo what light has created. Yet, God does not rebuke Job for his lament. Instead, He allows Job to pour out his heart in honesty.

This reminds us that God is not intimidated by our pain or our questions. Psalm 62:8 invites us to “pour out your heart before Him; God is a refuge for us.” Like Job, we are free to bring our unfiltered grief, our deepest doubts, and our sharpest questions to God. He welcomes them.

Do not believe the lie that you need to sanitize your prayers or hide your struggles. God knows them already. He is big enough to handle the weight of your pain and tender enough to meet you in it. The God who formed the stars and controls Leviathan is also the God who says, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28).

2. Suffering Does Not Mean Abandonment:

Job felt utterly forsaken, but we know the end of the story. God had not abandoned Job. In fact, Job’s suffering was part of a divine plan to demonstrate God’s justice, refine Job’s faith, and reveal God’s glory.

Romans 8:28 assures us that “for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to His purpose.” This doesn’t mean all things feel good, but it does mean that nothing is wasted in God’s hands. Not one tear, not one sleepless night, not one cry of anguish is meaningless.

Again, think of Jesus on the cross. In His moment of deepest suffering, He cried out, “My God, my God, why have You forsaken Me?” (Matthew 27:46). Yet we know that God had not truly abandoned Him. Christ’s suffering was the very means by which redemption was secured. If God can use the cross for His glory and our good, He can certainly use the crosses we bear in this life.

3. Suffering Points Us to Our Savior:

Job longed for his suffering to end, and ultimately, his story foreshadows the One who would bear the ultimate suffering on our behalf. Jesus Christ entered into the chaos and brokenness of this world to redeem it. He is the true and greater Job, who endured the wrath of God and the assaults of Satan not for His sins, but for ours.

Where Job cursed the day of his birth, Christ embraced the purpose of His birth, saying, “For this purpose I was born and for this purpose I have come into the world—to bear witness to the truth” (John 18:37). Where Job wished for darkness, Christ became the light of the world. And where Job could not see the hope beyond his suffering, Christ endured the cross “for the joy that was set before Him” (Hebrews 12:2).

Beloved, let Job’s lament remind you of your need for Christ. We live in a broken world where suffering is inevitable, but we serve a Savior who entered into that suffering and overcame it. Because of Him, we have the assurance that our pain is not the end of the story. The morning is coming.

Final Encouragement:

As we leave here today, let me challenge you to reflect on your own response to suffering. Are you tempted, like Job, to curse the day of your birth? Do you feel overwhelmed by the chaos of life? Remember this: God is sovereign over the chaos. He sees you, He hears you, and He is working even when you cannot see it.

When you cannot trace His hand, trust His heart. And when you feel like Job, longing for darkness, lift your eyes to the One who is the Light of the World. For as Psalm 30:5 reminds us, “Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning.”

May we trust in the God who is not only sovereign in our suffering but also faithful to redeem it. Let us pray.