Homily – Sunday the 9th of November 2025 – Remembrance Sunday
Reading: Job 19:23-27
On this Remembrance Sunday, as we recall the end of the First World War, we are invited to pause and remember — to remember the pain, the agony, the displacement, and the terrible violence that war has carved into the heart of our world. In an age when foolishness still fuels conflict and innocent lives continue to be uprooted, our remembrance is not mere nostalgia; it is an act of hope — a sacred commitment to peace. For Remembrance Day reminds us that peace is precious, freedom is costly, and that to remember is to take the first step toward ensuring such horrors never darken our world again.
Imagine a moment when life suddenly turns upside down — when everything we trusted, everything we built, begins to crumble before our eyes. It might be a diagnosis that changes everything, a relationship that we held dear falling apart, the loss of a job, the ambience at work turning very difficult, or the weight of disappointment that feels too heavy to bear. In those moments, we find ourselves standing in the ruins of our plans, feeling shattered, broken, and bruised deep within. We ask, “Where is God in all this? How do I hold on when hope feels so far away?”
It’s in these valleys of pain and uncertainty that faith is most deeply tested — and most beautifully revealed. The story of Job reminds us that even when everything seems lost, there is still One who lives, who sees, and who stands for us. Our Redeemer is not distant from our suffering; He is present in it, breathing hope into our despair and turning our tears into the soil of renewal. Today, as we reflect together, we are invited to rediscover that even in life’s darkest hours, God’s love still holds, His justice still stands, and His redemption is never out of reach.
Look around. The leafless tree in winter seems dead, but with spring comes new life. So, too, God brings resurrection where we see only loss.
The Context
The Book of Job tells the story of a righteous man named Job who faces immense suffering — he loses his wealth, his children, and his health, even though he has done nothing wrong. His friends come to comfort him but insist that his suffering must be a punishment for sin. Job, however, maintains his innocence and wrestles with the painful question of why the righteous suffer. In chapter 19, feeling abandoned by friends and seemingly by God, Job cries out in anguish — yet in the midst of despair, he makes a stunning declaration of faith: “I know that my Redeemer lives.” These words express his unshakable belief that there is a living God who will ultimately vindicate him, restore justice, and allow him to see God before he dies or even after death. Thus, Job 19:23–27 shines as a beacon of hope — a confession of trust in divine redemption even when everything else seems lost.
Goel or Redeemer is a very powerful Old Testament social security mechanism. In the Old Testament, God wove justice and compassion into the very structure of community life through remarkable social systems. The Year of Jubilee ensured that land was returned, debts were cancelled, and slaves were freed, preventing the accumulation of wealth and power in a few hands. The Law of Gleaning required landowners to leave portions of their harvest for the poor, widows, and foreigners, building generosity and dignity into the economic system itself. The Cities of Refuge provided safety and due process for those accused of accidental killing, preventing cycles of revenge and upholding fairness in justice. The Sabbatical Year offered rest for the land, release for debtors, and renewal for the poor, reminding society that creation and community both belong to God. Together, these institutions reveal a divine vision of social justice where mercy, fairness, and restoration were not occasional acts of charity, but the very rhythm of a godly society — ensuring that every person could live with dignity, hope, and belonging under God’s covenant care.
Likewise in the Old Testament, the concept of the Redeemer (Hebrew: “Go’el”) carries deep theological, social, and relational meaning. The go’el was a near kinsman with the duty to protect, restore, and redeem a family member or their property when they had fallen into loss, bondage, or danger. Rooted in covenantal faithfulness and kinship responsibility, the go’el acted as a rescuer — buying back land (Leviticus 25:25), freeing relatives sold into slavery (Leviticus 25:47–49), or avenging wrongful death (Numbers 35:19). This idea later takes on profound spiritual depth as God Himself is portrayed as Israel’s Go’el, the divine Redeemer who delivers His people from oppression and restores them to covenantal relationship (Isaiah 41:14; 43:1; 54:5). Thus, the Old Testament vision of the Redeemer moves from human kinship duty to the revelation of a God who, in steadfast love, intervenes to reclaim and renew His people.
The passage Job 19:23–27 stands as one of the most profound confessions of faith in the Old Testament, revealing the theological depth of the Redeemer (Go’el) in the midst of suffering. When Job declares, “I know that my Redeemer lives, and that in the end He will stand upon the earth” (v. 25), he moves from despair to an unshakable confidence in a living, divine Advocate. Theologically, the Redeemer here transcends the traditional human go’el of Israelite law — no longer merely a kinsman who restores land or defends honor, but a divine figure who vindicates the righteous sufferer beyond death itself. Job’s hope that he will “see God” even after his skin is destroyed (v. 26–27) points to a faith in resurrection, divine justice, and ultimate restoration. The Redeemer thus becomes the guarantor of covenant faithfulness, bridging human suffering and divine deliverance. In this confession, Job anticipates the fuller revelation of redemption — a God who not only redeems life’s losses but also conquers death, affirming that God’s justice and love endure beyond temporal suffering.
In Job 19:23–27, we see Job’s profound faith in a living Redeemer, the Go’el, who stands as a divine vindicator in the midst of suffering. Whether Job expected to see his Redeemer in life or after death- the translations vary depending on the theological perspective of the translators- his words reveal a trust that goes beyond his present pain. He affirms that even if his body is destroyed, he will behold God — a powerful statement of hope, justice, and restoration. This Redeemer is not merely a human advocate but God Himself, who promises ultimate deliverance, vindication, and the renewal of life. Job’s declaration invites us to trust in God’s faithful presence, even when circumstances seem hopeless, and to hope in His justice that transcends death.
God sees our pain and stands for justice — even when the world cannot.
When Job cried out, “I know that my Redeemer lives,” he was not speaking from triumph but from the ashes of loss and misunderstanding. Surrounded by false accusations and undeserved suffering, Job clung to the conviction that God was still alive, still just, still standing with him. This is the heartbeat of faith — believing that God sees our pain and stands for justice even when the world cannot. When others judge or abandon us, when truth is buried beneath lies or power, God remains the living Redeemer who takes our cause as His own. His silence is never absence; His waiting is never indifference. In the hidden spaces of suffering, God is already at work — defending the oppressed, lifting the broken, and writing a story that human injustice cannot erase. The cross itself stands as the ultimate witness to this truth: when the world condemned the innocent Christ, God turned the world’s greatest wrong into the world’s greatest redemption. So even when life feels unbearably unfair, we can rest in the assurance that the Redeemer still lives — and He will have the final word of justice, mercy, and hope.
The Redeemer is a living God who vindicates the suffering:
Job declares, “I know that my Redeemer lives”, affirming that God is not distant or indifferent but actively present, standing for justice and righteousness even when human life seems unfairly crushed. This shows us that God’s redemption begins in the midst of our trials, not only afterward.
In Job 19:23–27, we encounter a profound vision of the Redeemer, a living God who stands with the suffering and vindicates the innocent. Even in the midst of pain and loss, Job declares his trust in a God who transcends death, who restores life and hope beyond the decay of the body. This Redeemer is not distant or abstract but personal and intimate — Job longs to see God with his own eyes, experiencing restoration, justice, and communion. In these verses, we are reminded that God’s redemption is present in our trials, eternal in its power, and deeply relational, calling us to place our hope in Him, even when circumstances seem hopeless.
In a world full of injustice and oppression, we can find hope in God’s active presence. Redemption begins even in the midst of our trials.
God’s redemption is eternal — no decay or death can overcome His love.
The Redeemer transcends death and corruption:
Job’s hope that he will see God “even after my skin has been destroyed” points to a divine power that overcomes decay, mortality, and despair. The Redeemer assures ultimate restoration, reminding us that God’s justice and love are eternal, beyond the limits of earthly life.
Even as Job sat in the ashes, his body broken and his heart crushed by grief, he looked beyond the ruin of his flesh and saw with eyes of faith a Redeemer who lives. In that vision, Job discovered the timeless truth that God’s redemption is eternal — no decay, no death, no despair can overcome His love. When all else fades, when strength fails and the world turns to dust, the steadfast love of God endures. His redemption does not stop at the grave; it breaks through death itself, transforming endings into beginnings and sorrow into song. The Redeemer who stood for Job still stands for us — in our losses, our failures, and even in the face of mortality. His justice is not confined to time, nor is His mercy limited by circumstance. Where we see decay, He brings renewal; where we see death, He breathes life. And so we can say with Job, even through tears, “I know that my Redeemer lives,” for His love outlasts every darkness and His restoration is forever.
Death, failure, or loss is not the end. God’s power and love transcend all limitations, offering eternal hope and restoration.
God’s redemption is personal — He meets us in our pain and calls us to bring His restoration to others.
Job’s cry, “I shall see God with my own eyes,” reveals the profoundly personal nature of redemption. God’s saving love is never distant or abstract — it is intimate, tender, and deeply relational. The Redeemer does not remain on the margins of our pain; He steps into it, meeting us where we are most broken and least understood. When Job had lost everything, what he longed for was not an explanation, but an encounter — to see God, to know that he was not forgotten. In that longing, God draws near, restoring not only what was lost but the very dignity of being known and loved. In a world where people often feel unseen and unheard, God’s redemption assures us that we are never invisible to Him. And as He meets us in our pain, He also invites us to become His instruments of healing — to see others with compassion, to reach out where there is hurt, and to bring His restoring love into the lives of those around us. Redemption becomes complete when the love that found us becomes the love we share.
The Redeemer offers intimate and personal restoration:
Job’s confidence in seeing God with his own eyes emphasizes that redemption is relational and personal. It is not an abstract idea; God comes close to the individual, restoring dignity, hope, and communion with Him.
In our disconnected world, God meets us personally, restores dignity, and calls us to extend His compassion and hope to others.
Conclusion
The idea of the Redeemer remains profoundly relevant in our present-day context because it speaks to the universal human experience of suffering, injustice, and the longing for restoration. Today, many feel powerless against personal struggles, societal oppression, or moral decay, and the Redeemer reminds us that there is a source of justice and hope beyond human limitations. The Redeemer is God’s intervention in the brokenness of our lives, offering forgiveness, healing, and renewal — not only spiritually but relationally, socially, and emotionally. This concept also challenges us to participate in redemption by acting as agents of justice, compassion, and reconciliation in our communities. In a world marked by despair, division, and uncertainty, the Redeemer reassures us that no loss is final, no suffering is ignored, and ultimate restoration and hope are possible through God’s living presence.
Vinod Victor
9th Nov 2025
Freiburg Anglican Church 
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