Job discussion
Our topic this morning is the Bible story of Job. Let me start with an introduction and maybe sort of a proposition to set the stage for discussion. As a handout, class members present and online have this copy of about what I mean to ramble on about.
About the land of Uz and the story itself: consider that the story begins like you’re reading a bedtime story to your children, “Once upon a time, long ago in a faraway land, there was a righteous man whose name was Job”.
The storyteller opens in a Time when one’s desirable place in life (immense wealth, large, happy, loving family, everyone in good health) were considered evidence of God’s favor. And in this story, it is not as if God loved and favored a scoundrel and a cheat like Jacob proved himself to be, the storyteller establishes that Job really is sinless and devoted to God. So we do not need to look, like Job’s friends did, for Job’s sins: the fact is set that Job is innocent, without sin, beyond reproach. And Job is much admired by God as a really good person, what every human should be like: healthy, happy, and wholesome.
This is an old-timey story, so I suggest you not (at least not yet) criticize the fact that (except for Job’s wife and daughters) all the actors are men, male; and that there are servants, who are to be understood as slaves.
So the stage is set. Here’s a really good person who has been made “a target”. Job is really “in for it”, he does not deserve any of the bad things that are about to be done to him. Job is about to be tested beyond endurance, and he endures anyway.
The testers are beyond Job’s control. This is done to Job by agreement of God and God’s “designated examiner” whose name is Satan. We already know Satan as the bad guy, the one who does mean things, and who tries to get us to do mean things.
You do not have to believe in Satan or the Devil to enjoy the story, just enjoy the story as our case study for discussion.
Terrible things are done to Job. They don’t simply “happen” in this story, terrible things are done to Job by God’s examiner, sent to test Job.
Job is in misery. Everyone he loved, and everything he owned has been taken away violently and by means of evil: evil humans and evil in the nature of things; and Job himself has deliberately been put in terrible health. He’s sitting in the ruins of his former life, wondering why this has been done to him. Job is NOT asking, “What have I done to deserve this?” because he knows he’s innocent. He’s asking the correct question, “Why has God done this to me?”
Mind you, Job does not mention Satan. Job knows, Job’s FAITH, is that God is in control. Job puts the responsibility, the blame, directly on God.
So maybe a first question is the question of theodicy: If God is all good and all powerful, why do bad things happen to good people?
And the answer we find in Job is “because God lets it happen.”
Because our hour is short, I’m not going to go into details yet, I’ll just mention that while Job is suffering and wondering how God could have done this to such a faithful and blameless person, Job’s three old friends, Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar come to talk sense into Job by encouraging Job to “fess up” and ask forgiveness, and throw himself on God’s mercy, and God will make everything alright again.
The friends find Job in a terrible state, so miserable that he wants to die. Each friend presents his argument several times, that what has happened is punishment for Job’s secret sins; and each time, Job rejects their argument and puts the blame and responsibility back on God.
We are the audience outside the story, and we know that Job is right.
As we consider the story, I suggest we not be so pious and holy and sanctimonious as to try to let God off the hook, which is exactly what Job’s three friends do.
After the arguments between Job and his old friends, another person comes, a young man named Elihu, which means “my God is He” and sure enough, Elihu defends God’s righteousness with fire and vigor.
IDK, maybe Elihu is meant to be an angel. At least, Elihu is certainly God’s defense attorney.
Then God himself comes and “sets Job straight”, with what seems to me like great self-righteous arrogance and braggadocio, showing no understanding at all of human nature. Someone has written that we can excuse God for not understanding humans, first because humans are new on the scene of creation and God has had little experience in dealing with us. That at this point in holy history, God just sees humans as the creatures he created to farm the land and take care of the Garden. That God doesn’t understand us because God has never been what we are. That God will never understand us until God becomes a human in Jesus Christ.
So maybe some of my questions are:
Based on the Job story, isn’t it fair and reasonable for us to blame God when bad things happen to us?
How much blame do we have to take ourselves for the bad things that happen to us?
The so-called “theodicy question” is “If God is all good and all powerful, why do bad things happen to us?” Rabbi Harold Kushner said that if he has to choose between a God who is all powerful and a God who is all good, he’d choose all good.
Isn’t the answer to the theodicy question that we ourselves have described God as all powerful and all good, and we have described God incorrectly. God is NOT all powerful and all good. We have described God in accordance with our human values about what would make a perfect God. The story of Job casts God as willing to be conniving and capricious if he sees that as necessary to prove his point (i.e., Job is righteous). A theologian I read in seminary said that God’s one characteristic is Grace. IDK; I think we can’t accurately describe God, whoever or whatever God is, God describes himself in self-revelation, in how we see, perceive God making “himself” known to us.
And finally, how do you feel about Carl Jung’s suggestion that Job describes God’s treatment of humanity, at a time when God had no self-perception, no ability of introspection, only a great deal of ego and arrogance, and that Calvary, Christ suffering and dying on the Cross, was God’s offering penance for his treatment of Job (who is us)?
This is my favorite part of the book of Job (The Message), chapters 13 and 14, the essence of Job’s self-defense.
I’m Taking My Case to God
Job chapter 13 (Job speaking)
1-5 “Yes, I’ve seen all this with my own eyes,
heard and understood it with my very own ears.
Everything you know, I know,
so I’m not taking a backseat to any of you.
I’m taking my case straight to God Almighty;
I’ve had it with you—I’m going directly to God.
You graffiti my life with lies.
You’re a bunch of pompous quacks!
I wish you’d shut your mouths—
silence is your only claim to wisdom.
heard and understood it with my very own ears.
Everything you know, I know,
so I’m not taking a backseat to any of you.
I’m taking my case straight to God Almighty;
I’ve had it with you—I’m going directly to God.
You graffiti my life with lies.
You’re a bunch of pompous quacks!
I wish you’d shut your mouths—
silence is your only claim to wisdom.
6-12
“Listen now while I make my case,
consider my side of things for a change.
Or are you going to keep on lying ‘to do God a service’?
to make up stories ‘to get him off the hook’?
Why do you always take his side?
Do you think he needs a lawyer to defend himself?
How would you fare if you were in the witness stand?
Your lies might convince a jury—but would they convince God?
He’d reprimand you on the spot
if he detected a bias in your witness.
Doesn’t his splendor put you in awe?
Aren’t you afraid to speak cheap lies before him?
Your wise sayings are knickknack wisdom,
good for nothing but gathering dust.
consider my side of things for a change.
Or are you going to keep on lying ‘to do God a service’?
to make up stories ‘to get him off the hook’?
Why do you always take his side?
Do you think he needs a lawyer to defend himself?
How would you fare if you were in the witness stand?
Your lies might convince a jury—but would they convince God?
He’d reprimand you on the spot
if he detected a bias in your witness.
Doesn’t his splendor put you in awe?
Aren’t you afraid to speak cheap lies before him?
Your wise sayings are knickknack wisdom,
good for nothing but gathering dust.
13-19
“So hold your tongue while I have my say,
then I’ll take whatever I have coming to me.
Why do I go out on a limb like this
and take my life in my hands?
Because even if he killed me, I’d keep on hoping.
I’d defend my innocence to the very end.
Just wait, this is going to work out for the best—my salvation!
If I were guilt-stricken do you think I’d be doing this—
laying myself on the line before God?
You’d better pay attention to what I’m telling you,
listen carefully with both ears.
Now that I’ve laid out my defense,
I’m sure that I’ll be acquitted.
Can anyone prove charges against me?
I’ve said my piece. I rest my case.
then I’ll take whatever I have coming to me.
Why do I go out on a limb like this
and take my life in my hands?
Because even if he killed me, I’d keep on hoping.
I’d defend my innocence to the very end.
Just wait, this is going to work out for the best—my salvation!
If I were guilt-stricken do you think I’d be doing this—
laying myself on the line before God?
You’d better pay attention to what I’m telling you,
listen carefully with both ears.
Now that I’ve laid out my defense,
I’m sure that I’ll be acquitted.
Can anyone prove charges against me?
I’ve said my piece. I rest my case.
Why Does God Stay Hidden and Silent?
20-27
“Please, God, I have two requests;
grant them so I’ll know I count with you:
First, lay off the afflictions;
the terror is too much for me.
Second, address me directly so I can answer you,
or let me speak and then you answer me.
How many sins have been charged against me?
Show me the list—how bad is it?
Why do you stay hidden and silent?
Why treat me like I’m your enemy?
Why kick me around like an old tin can?
Why beat a dead horse?
You compile a long list of mean things about me,
even hold me accountable for the sins of my youth.
You hobble me so I can’t move about.
You watch every move I make,
and brand me as a dangerous character.
grant them so I’ll know I count with you:
First, lay off the afflictions;
the terror is too much for me.
Second, address me directly so I can answer you,
or let me speak and then you answer me.
How many sins have been charged against me?
Show me the list—how bad is it?
Why do you stay hidden and silent?
Why treat me like I’m your enemy?
Why kick me around like an old tin can?
Why beat a dead horse?
You compile a long list of mean things about me,
even hold me accountable for the sins of my youth.
You hobble me so I can’t move about.
You watch every move I make,
and brand me as a dangerous character.
28
“Like something rotten, human life fast decomposes,
like a moth-eaten shirt or a mildewed blouse.”
like a moth-eaten shirt or a mildewed blouse.”
If We Die, Will We Live Again?
Job chapter 14 (Job continues speaking)
1-17 “We’re all adrift in the same boat:
too few days, too many troubles.
We spring up like wildflowers in the desert and then wilt,
transient as the shadow of a cloud.
Do you occupy your time with such fragile wisps?
Why even bother hauling me into court?
There’s nothing much to us to start with;
how do you expect us to amount to anything?
Mortals have a limited life span.
You’ve already decided how long we’ll live—
you set the boundary and no one can cross it.
So why not give us a break? Ease up!
Even ditchdiggers get occasional days off.
For a tree there is always hope.
Chop it down and it still has a chance—
its roots can put out fresh sprouts.
Even if its roots are old and gnarled,
its stump long dormant,
At the first whiff of water it comes to life,
buds and grows like a sapling.
But men and women? They die and stay dead.
They breathe their last, and that’s it.
Like lakes and rivers that have dried up,
parched reminders of what once was,
So mortals lie down and never get up,
never wake up again—never.
Why don’t you just bury me alive,
get me out of the way until your anger cools?
But don’t leave me there!
Set a date when you’ll see me again.
If we humans die, will we live again? That’s my question.
All through these difficult days I keep hoping,
waiting for the final change—for resurrection!
Homesick with longing for the creature you made,
you’ll call—and I’ll answer!
You’ll watch over every step I take,
but you won’t keep track of my missteps.
My sins will be stuffed in a sack
and thrown into the sea—sunk in deep ocean.
too few days, too many troubles.
We spring up like wildflowers in the desert and then wilt,
transient as the shadow of a cloud.
Do you occupy your time with such fragile wisps?
Why even bother hauling me into court?
There’s nothing much to us to start with;
how do you expect us to amount to anything?
Mortals have a limited life span.
You’ve already decided how long we’ll live—
you set the boundary and no one can cross it.
So why not give us a break? Ease up!
Even ditchdiggers get occasional days off.
For a tree there is always hope.
Chop it down and it still has a chance—
its roots can put out fresh sprouts.
Even if its roots are old and gnarled,
its stump long dormant,
At the first whiff of water it comes to life,
buds and grows like a sapling.
But men and women? They die and stay dead.
They breathe their last, and that’s it.
Like lakes and rivers that have dried up,
parched reminders of what once was,
So mortals lie down and never get up,
never wake up again—never.
Why don’t you just bury me alive,
get me out of the way until your anger cools?
But don’t leave me there!
Set a date when you’ll see me again.
If we humans die, will we live again? That’s my question.
All through these difficult days I keep hoping,
waiting for the final change—for resurrection!
Homesick with longing for the creature you made,
you’ll call—and I’ll answer!
You’ll watch over every step I take,
but you won’t keep track of my missteps.
My sins will be stuffed in a sack
and thrown into the sea—sunk in deep ocean.
18-22
“Meanwhile, mountains wear down
and boulders break up,
Stones wear smooth
and soil erodes,
as you relentlessly grind down our hope.
You’re too much for us.
As always, you get the last word.
We don’t like it and our faces show it,
but you send us off anyway.
If our children do well for themselves, we never know it;
if they do badly, we’re spared the hurt.
Body and soul, that’s it for us—
a lifetime of pain, a lifetime of sorrow.”
and boulders break up,
Stones wear smooth
and soil erodes,
as you relentlessly grind down our hope.
You’re too much for us.
As always, you get the last word.
We don’t like it and our faces show it,
but you send us off anyway.
If our children do well for themselves, we never know it;
if they do badly, we’re spared the hurt.
Body and soul, that’s it for us—
a lifetime of pain, a lifetime of sorrow.”