We've been thinking about how Job handled the awful things that happened to
him. We've heard the tragic story. We know the story of God's "deal"
with Satan. We winced at the poor efforts of Job's friends to help him. And
the way Job has been talking to God is enough to bring the wrath of heaven
down on his head. But through all of this God has been silent--until now.
We finally come near the end of the book, and beginning chapter 38 we hear
the simple but almost terrifying words, "Then the LORD answered Job out
of the storm." Well, it's about time! But here's the amazing thing: God
doesn't give Job an answer, at least not to our way of thinking. Here's a
short summary of what God says to Job: "Where were you when I created
the world? Could you seize the earth like a blanket and shake out the wicked
like cockroaches? Do you know where the light comes from and where darkness
lives? Could you take them by the hand and lead them home if they got lost?
Was it through your knowledge that the hawk learned to fly?" And God
goes on and on like that, putting Job in his place. Basically it sounds like
the impatient response of a parent who says to the child, "Because I
said so, that's why!"
One might think Job would be offended by God's response, but he isn't! When
Job is confronted with the sovereign power of God, his only response is as
if to say, "You know, you're right." "I babbled on about things
far beyond me, made small talk about wonders way over my head" (42:3,
TM). Perhaps the most revealing thing Job says in this entire book is found
in verse 5 of the passage for today: "My ears had heard of you but now
my eyes have seen you." Eugene Peterson puts it this way: "I admit
I once lived by rumors of you; now I have it all firsthand" (TM).
Something transforming happened to Job as in his suffering he came to the
absolute end of himself. Somehow he came to see reality in a whole new way.
He came to see God in a whole new way. Job comes to a transformed understanding,
as we hear in verse 6, of what it means to be "dust and ashes" before
God and in the world. There is something about facing the deep mystery of
God that only suffering puts us in touch with that can help us to see clearly.
That's what happened to Job. That's why when God finally does speak and bring
perspective to Job's life, his only response is reverent worship. What Job
demonstrates is that God was absolutely right about him, and Satan was absolutely
wrong. From now on Job will locate his self-worth in his raltionship with
God, not in his own moral behavior or innocence. That's the new vision that
Job has. That's what he sees now that he couldn't see before.
We often speak of the need to "see things from God's perspective."
Easily said; not easily done. But nonetheless, it really is a significant
need of ours. Especially in times of trial we have a deep need to understand
how God is viewing all of this. How does one gain that kind of perspective?
Some people think that the "church" answers to suffering are only
attempts to let God off the hook. How can this dilemma be faithfully answered?
(small sidehead): God's Answer
At first glance God's answer to Job doesn't seem like much of an answer. In
fact, it sounds more as if God is telling Job off. But Job doesn't receive
it that way. Job has always held firmly to his conviction that God is all-powerful;
he never questioned that. What he questioned in his lament was God's consistent
(or inconsistent from Job's view) execution of justice. But having been confronted
by the amazing way God created the world, Job admits that these matters are
too wonderful for him to understand. Is that letting God off the hook? I think
not. What Job learns in this is that humility before God and surrender to
His Lordship is absolutely essential for a vital relationship with Him. When
Job finally saw God, the "answers" didn't matter so much.
Sometimes we say about life's dilemmas, "I guess I'll put this on the
list of questions I have for God when I get to heaven." I understand
that. But it's likely that when I get to heaven and see Jesus face-to-face,
beholding Him in all of His glory, the questions just won't matter much anymore.
I think that's what happened to Job. So what I would ask is, "If it won't
matter then, why do we let it matter so much now?"
Suffering has the power to teach us that peace is not in the answers; peace
is in God himself. Security is not a matter of having all the questions dealt
with; security is about trusting my whole life to the God who is before all
and over all and in all.
(For a complete manuscript of this sermon, go to www.preachersmagazine.org.)
"Dad, can I go meet a group of my friends at the mall and hang out for
a couple of hours?"
"No, I don't think so."
"But why not?"
"I just don't think it's a good idea."
"But Dad, that's not fair. You don't even have a good reason why I can't
go."
"Because I said so, that's why!"
All right now, admit it. Have you ever had a conversation like that take place
in your home? As a kid I always hated that answer, and I vowed that I would
never say that to my kids. Of course, you know what happened. As a parent,
I now understand that answer and how necessary it is sometimes. There are
times when your heart is way ahead of your mind, and in the presence of a
cross-examining child the only answer that will come out is, "Because
I said so, that's why!"
Perhaps this perspective of a child trying to figure the ways of a parent
can help open up the dilemma that Job faces in trying to understand God. And
perhaps the perspective that most parents could identify with, that sometimes
you can't fully explain your reasons, will help the hearers to be a little
more patient when God's answers to the "why" questions aren't exactly
as we would have them be.
Our task as preachers is to help the text refunction in the hearts and minds
of our hearers similarly to how it functioned in the hearts and minds of those
who first heard it. What would it mean for this text to refunction? It could
be that a large part of it is to guide our people through a process, by guiding
them through this narrative, similar to what Job went through. The questions
of why God was doing and not doing certain things had become oppressive to
him. Then he caught a new vision of God, and suddenly he realized that knowing
the "answers" was not nearly so important as knowing God.
On a much smaller scale that's what happened to me when I vowed as a kid never
to say, "Because I said so" and yet find myself saying it as a parent.
My world changed. My views of things are far different as a parent than they
were as a child. I see things now that I just couldn't see until I had that
responsibility for myself.
