Job’s confession is simple but thunderous: “I know that my Redeemer lives. (Job 19:25)” At the heart of this comfort is one small word: “my.” Job did not merely say, “There is a Redeemer,” or even, “The Redeemer lives.” He said, “My Redeemer lives.”
This is not merely theological knowledge—it’s deeply personal. This is the marrow of Job’s hope: his Redeemer was not distant or abstract, but present, alive, and his.
So many live within reach of spiritual truth yet never claim it for themselves. Like gold in the mine, unclaimed grace may glisten but it does not nourish. A Christ who is not your Christ, a Savior who is not personally known and trusted, will not give you peace. The question must be faced: Can I say with certainty, “He is mine”?
Faith makes Christ personal. Even the smallest seed of faith—a trembling trust, a faint whisper of belief—is enough to lay hold of this living Redeemer. Don’t wait until your faith feels strong. If you have cast yourself upon Christ, however feebly, then He is yours.
The Confidence of “I Know”
Job didn’t say, “I hope my Redeemer lives,” or “I think so.” He said, “I know.” There’s a boldness here that cuts through uncertainty like light through fog.
Many believers dwell in a place of spiritual doubt, always circling but never landing, speaking in “maybes” and “perhapses.” But assurance is the secret spring of deep peace. Job’s declaration is a model for every believer: faith that sees beyond the present affliction into eternal realities.
Doubt is like a wasp—it buzzes in our ears and stings the soul, especially in times of sorrow. Suspicion that Christ may not truly be yours turns the bitter cup of suffering into something far more dreadful. But the knowledge that Jesus lives—and lives for you—transforms the darkest night into a place of light.
A Living Christ—Personally Yours
What Job longed for in shadow, we now see in full through the risen Christ. The empty tomb is our confirmation: “He is not here; He has risen, just as He said” (Matthew 28:6, BSB). Jesus lives, and He lives as Redeemer, Intercessor, and Friend.
But do not stop at knowledge of the facts. The invitation is to know Him personally—to make the risen Christ your own. Job didn’t just have theology. He had assurance. And so should we.
Let us examine our hearts, not to fall into fear, but to build our confidence on the right foundation. Once certain, do not dwell in the basement of “I hope so.” Move upward into the high places of “I know.” From there, you’ll see clearly—and find joy unspeakable.
Hints for Preachers and Teachers
- Emphasize the personal nature of faith: Focus on the difference between knowing about Jesus and saying, “He is my Redeemer.”
- Illustrate with contrast: Use the analogy of gold in the mine versus gold in the purse to show the importance of personal possession of Christ.
- Explore the tension between doubt and assurance: Many in the Church live with “I hope so” faith—lead them into the freedom of “I know.”
- Tie into resurrection hope: Connect Job’s ancient hope with the reality of Christ’s resurrection and what it means for us today.
- Encourage reflection: Ask listeners/readers if they can truly say “my Redeemer,” and help them understand how to move from doubt to assurance.
Conclusion
“I know that my Redeemer lives.” These are not the words of a man in comfort, but of one sitting in ashes, surrounded by sorrow. And yet, he speaks with unshakable confidence.
Let us press beyond vague belief and into the joy of personal assurance. A Redeemer who lives is glorious—but a Redeemer who lives for me is peace, power, and eternal hope. That knowledge changes everything.
A Closing Prayer
Lord Jesus, our living Redeemer, thank You that You are not only risen but near. Give us faith to grasp You as our own, to say with certainty, “He is mine.” Drive out every shadow of doubt and anchor us in the truth that You live and intercede for us. Let Your life fill our sorrow with hope and our weakness with strength. Amen.
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