Sermon for March 8th, 2026

Job 40:15-24 (INL)

15Behold! Behemoth! My creation (so are you!)—like cattle he grazes. 
16Behold the power of his hips, the heft of his paunch. 
17His stump hangs like cedar; sinewed stones intertwine. 
18His bones? Beams of bronze. His limbs? Bars of iron.
19Foremost of God's marvels! Monarch of dry lands!
20For the mountains bring him tribute, where the wild beasts rejoice. 
21He lounges beneath brambles, beds down in the bog. 
22Trees shelter him in shadow; he is surrounded by willows. 
23When the river breaks forth, no fear in his face;
Jordan rages against him; he remains assured. 
24Can anyone capture Behemoth with hooks? 
Can anyone pierce his nose with a snare?

The Monsters at the End of the Book - Part I

When I was about five or six years old, one of my favorite books was a Sesame Street book called "The Monster at the End of This Book, Starring Lovable, Furry Old Grover." [cover image]. The premise of the book is simple: Grover (a muppet-monster) reads the title of the book he finds himself within, and becomes alarmed at the idea that a monster is waiting for him at the end of the book. So he pleads with the reader not to turn any more pages. When this doesn't work, he builds all kinds of barriers, tries gluing the pages together, and of course nothing works. When you turn the last page, Grover realizes that the only monster there is, in fact, himself. He is overjoyed (and of course a little embarrassed). Years later, a sequel came out to the book, once again featuring Grover, but this time adding Elmo--who is curious and excited to meet the monster at the end of the book, much to Grover's frustration. Near the end of the book, Grover and Elmo agree to sneak up on the monster--Elmo from the back of the book, and Grover from the front. When the last page turns, they both see each other and scream (You're the monster at the end of the book! No, you are!). Both books are great fun, and are now considered "classics" of children's literature.

So what does any of this have to do with today's scripture reading from the Book of Job, and with us as adult church-goers? Well, I'm so glad you asked!

The Book of Job also features two monsters at the end of the book, which have been the subject of countless depictions in art and literature throughout the centuries, as well as much speculation about what they are, and what they represent. And as with the children's book, these two monsters have probably also been the subject of quite a bit more anxiety than is warranted. The two monsters, described by God himself in back to back chapters, are called Behemoth and Leviathan.

One of God's questions bring us to our first monster: Behemoth. In Job 40:15-23, God describes this formidable, awe-inspiring creature, and then in verse 24 essentially asks the question, "Can he be captured or tamed?"

Behemoth has fascinated readers of the Bible for centuries, so the first thing I'd like to do is walk us through a little history of interpretation.

In the Septuagint, a Greek translation of the Old Testament that predates the time of Christ, chapters 40 and 41 are spliced together and taken to describe one single monster. So in many early illustrated manuscripts, you get something like this: (Note that "Beheviathan" is already associated here with Satan & evil.)

• Illuminated Byzantine Manuscript 1 (9th C., Patmos, Codex 171)
• Illuminated Byzantine Manuscript 2 (9th C., Vatican, Codex Gr. 749)

In several Jewish Apocalyptic Books dating from around the same period (Enoch, Esdras, Baruch) Behemoth appears as one of three monsters, probably derived from Babylonian Mythology: Behemoth (land), Leviathan (sea), and Ziz (air). At the end of time, the monsters will fight each other, before God ultimately kills them and uses them to provide food for the righteous at the heavenly banquet.

• Book of Enoch (Ambrosian Jewish Bible, Milan 13th C.)

The Liber Floridus (book of flowers) is an 11th century Medieval Encyclopedia where Behemoth makes an appearance as the beast ridden by the the Antichrist in the Book of Revelation.

• Devil Steed (Liber Floridus, 11th C.)

However, Behemoth is not always portrayed as a vehicle for evil. In a church in Asinou, Cyprus, Behemoth appears on a mural (along with Leviathan) as the steed for a Saint (probably John the apostle).

• Saint Steed (Asinou Church, 11-14th C.)

In the late middle ages and reformation, Behemoth began to be interpreted more often as an actual creature, and less a mythical one. Aquinas and Calvin both thought the passage described an Elephant.

• Elephant & Dragon (Harley MS 3244, 13th C. Bestiary)
• Behemoth Demon (Dictionnaire Infernal, 1818)

Probably the most famous depiction of Behemoth (and Leviathan) is from Romantic poet and artist William Blake, who was throughout his life obsessed with the Book of Job, and illustrated it in several different mediums. Here, Behemoth is William Pitt (Prime Minister), while Leviathan is Admiral Horatio Nelson (Navy).

• Behemoth & Leviathan (Watercolour, Wm. Blake, 1825-74) -
• The Spiritual Form of Pitt Guiding Behemoth (1805) Per Blake's description, Pitt is "that Angel who, pleased to perform the Almighty’s orders, rides on the whirlwind, directing the storms of war."

Modern naturalistic interpretations of Behemoth generally point to the hippopotamus:

• Hippopotamus (Angus Library, Illustration, 18th C.)
• BDB Entry (Photo Library)

And, of course, most recently a few Fundamentalist Christians point to dinosaurs:

• Dinosaur (Creation Museum)

I said earlier that Behemoth has fascinated readers for centuries, but most of that fascination seems to be centered on the question "What WAS Behemoth?" Mythical monster? Historical creature? It's a great question, but God doesn't answer it any more than he answers any of Job's questions. Perhaps there is no answer. Perhaps, when it comes to Behemoth, we've been asking the wrong question altogether.

Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson went on a camping trip. After a good meal, they lay down for the night and went to sleep. Some hours later Holmes woke up, nudged his faithful friend and said, "Watson, I want you to look up at the sky and tell me what you see." Watson said, "I see millions and millions of stars." Sherlock said, "And what does that tell you?"

After a minute or so of pondering Watson said, "Astronomically, it tells me that there are millions of galaxies and potentially billions of planets. Astrologically, I observe that Saturn is in Leo. Horologically, I deduce that the time is approximately a quarter past three in the morning. Theologically, I can see that God is all powerful and that we are small and insignificant. Metereologically, I suspect that we will have a beautiful day today. What does it tell you, Sherlock?" Holmes was silent for about 30 seconds and said, "It tells me, Watson, that someone has stolen our tent!"

In all our excitement about monsters, it's easy to get distracted from the main story. It's easy to forget that God is speaking to Job here, and that Job has some pretty serious concerns, none of which are about dinosaurs or hippopotami, or the end of the world. And unlike some interpreters, I don't think God is just showing off here: "Look what amazing things I made! I'm God and you're an insignificant mortal!"

No doubt God makes some pretty crazy things; things that terrify us, things we don't understand. But if there's any clue to understanding Behemoth in the Book of Job, I think it's right there in the first line of our passage: Behold, Behemoth! I created him, just like I created you. In English as well as in Hebrew, that phrase can mean "I created him and I also created you" or it can mean "I created him similar to you." God meets Job's questions with more questions, and I think here he's using Behemoth to hold up a mirror to Job.

When God shows up, Job is in a pretty bad state. He's lost everything. He's sitting on a pile of ashes (or a dung heap), covered in sores, mired in grief. He is weak. He is vulnerable. And God says to Job, you are strong. I made you like I made Behemoth, foremost of my creations. I didn't create you to be free from pain and suffering, but I created you to withstand it. When the river rises up against you, you have nothing to fear. Behemoth cannot be tamed, cannot be brought down with hooks and snares...and neither can you.

I think we're like Grover sometimes. We're so terrified of the monsters and the monstrosities in the world that we decide not to turn any more pages. We build walls for ourselves and try to hide. But despite our protests, the pages of our days keeps turning, and when we get to the end we realize our story--all the trials and all the triumphs--have been in the capable hands of a great, heavenly author. We are the only monster at the end of the book, but like Grover, we are loveable. Like Behemoth, we are strong. And like Job, we are fearfully and wonderfully made.