Printer Friendly VersionBased on the Introduction of Eugene Peterson's translation of Job.
Over the next four weeks, I want us to hear from one of the most troubling, yet one of the comforting sections of scripture. Perhaps Leander Keck expressed it best when he said, "If the 66 books of the Bible are to be seen as a family, surely Job is the crazy uncle."
We are really not sure what to do with this story. We seem to find a resonance with its gut-wrenching expressions and yet it raises questions about ourselves and about god that are terribly uncomfortable. The book of Job has to do with the most painful and unavoidable questions that can arise in human experience. What are we to make of human suffering in light of a good and powerful God that we believe is involved in our lives? If God is really who he says he is, then why is there suffering at all? And the question that easily comes to the lips of nearly every person, no matter their religious ilk: "How could a God of love allow this to happen?
Even the name "Job" is interesting. Of course ancient names were always rich in meaning. We can't be completely sure about Job's name, but there is a strong case to be made that the name Job is a question, which when translated comes out: "Where is the father?" Surely that question has found a way into the hearts of most of us here this morning at some difficult point in our lives.
I had originally planned this short series of messages several months from now, but a few weeks ago I decided to move it up. Is it just me or does it also seem to you that as a congregation we have been dealing with our share of suffering this year? For a while there it seemed that nearly every week we were getting the news of a cancer diagnosis. Many have lost loved ones. Some have dealt with the loss of a job or a broken relationship that has brought intense suffering into their lives.
We've had terrific blessings and answers to prayers also, no doubt about it. But sometimes life is tough. It's like the little boy my sister told me about yesterday. She works in a Christian school, and it seems that earlier this week the first graders were memorizing the 23rd Psalm, "The Lord is my shepherd." One little boy was doing well until near the end of the psalm when he said, "My cup gets run over!"
Life feels that way sometimes, doesn't it? So it seems that it might be beneficial for us to listen to the story of an ancient friend named Job. I want to share with you the first two chapters of Job which really set the stage for all that happens in the next forty or so chapters. And I want to do something different today than is our custom. I'm not going to ask you to stand and follow along with your Bibles, but I want you to follow along with your ears. I'd like to read for you this story as it is translated by Eugene Peterson in "The Message."
[read 1:1 through 2:10]
Unfortunately, Satan was right. For many people, their love and service of God is directly connected to his perceived blessings. Satan was right that many people, when faced with a life of trouble, turn their backs on God. Satan was right that very often people serve God only for what they think they are going to get out of it. Satan was betting that Job was no different.
Now these first two chapters would lead us to believe that the questions raised by Job's suffering are over. He has confessed his faith in God and therefore the case is closed. This is actually far from the truth, as the next forty chapters reveal. The book of Job does not provide a neat answer to the problem of suffering. It rather paints a portrait of how a man of faith wrestled with God over the circumstances of his life in light of God's sovereignty.
Job asks the common question when suffering comes: "Why is this happening to me?" I guess that's the most troubling thing about it. We tell ourselves that we could handle it if somehow we just knew the reason for it. We are drawn to Job because he asks his questions of God, in fact won't let up on them until he gets some kind of answer.
And it's not just that Job suffered that makes him important to us, it's the way he suffered. He suffered in the vital areas of family, personal health, and material things. These are the things that matter deeply to us. We're interested in Job because he refused to take silence for an answer and refused to take cliché's for an answer.
By the way, after we hear God speak to Satan in these first two chapters, we won't hear from him again until the very end of the book, he's silent. But in the face of the silence, Job takes his stance before God and there he protests his suffering, he protests mightily.
You know the truth is, it is not suffering in and of itself that troubles us. It is undeserved suffering. If we don't get tripped up over the purpose of suffering we stumble by fairness. I must confess to you that as I watch my father succumb to the terrible effects of Alzheimer's disease that is the question that sometimes gets the better of me. He is one of the most godly and faithful men I have ever known. He has lived his life in submission to the will of God. And now this? At 67 years of age, this is his reward?
I guess one of the surprises as we get older is that we come to see that there is no real correlation between the amount of wrong we commit and the amount of pain we experience. As Jesus said, "The father causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous." (Matt 5:45)
So what does Job teach us about facing suffering as people who believe in and trust in a good and powerful God? It seems to me that when Job's life fell apart, he does some very simple things. One, he grieves. He tears his clothes, shaves his head, and falls into the dirt. And God does not blame him for it. There is no shame in grieving over what has been lost.
Two, he stays with friends and does not isolate himself, though their comfort was far less than adequate. Pastor Hayse said it so profoundly and correctly last week. The thing that has held him steady in the midst of his journey of suffering has been the community of God's people. Imperfect as it is, it is still God's provision and a sign of his presence.
And third, Job speaks to God. He does not clam up and stop talking to God. He protests his suffering. He protests loudly and bitterly and somehow in the midst of that he will be saved.
It is also important to note what Job does not do. He does not curse God, as his wife suggests, getting rid of the problem by getting rid of God. But neither does Job try to explain his suffering. He does not instruct us in how to live so that we can avoid suffering. Suffering is a mystery and Job comes to respect the mystery. And perhaps the greatest mystery in suffering is how it can bring a person into the presence of God in a new way. Suffering does not inevitably do that, but it does it far more often than we would expect.
The testimony of many Christians that I have known across the years would tell me that somehow by the grace of God, suffering can become an unlikely friend. C. S. Lewis said, "Pain insists on being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks to us in our conscience, but shouts to us in our pain."
Why does suffering come to those who love God and serve him faithfully? I don't know. I've attempted a few answers over the years but it seems that Job's stance is best: it's somehow part of the great mystery of God. But this I do know: God is watching. "The deep meaning of the cross of Christ is that there is no suffering on earth that is not borne by God."
One of the first things we notice about Jesus' behavior towards those who suffer is that he is never indifferent. The Bible tells us often that he is moved and upset, it describes his compassion and even his tears. So much of dealing with suffering seems to boil down to trusting that picture of who God is. Can I believe and trust, no matter what is happening in my life, that God loves me and cares for me?
Will I insist on defining God's care in terms of my health and well-being, or am I willing to say with Job: "God gives, God takes. God's name be ever blessed." It seems to me that the most powerful statement in all of Job is his simple, faithful response to his wife: "We take the good days from God, why not also the bad?"
So I would simply ask you, if you find yourself in Job's dilemma, what would it take for you to also find yourself in Job's faith?
