"I CAN SEE CLEARLY NOW "

JOB 42:1-6

"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!"

Alright now, admit it, have you ever had a conversation similar to that take place in your home? As a kid I always hated that answer. I vowed that I would never say to 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 thing that will come out is, "Because I said so, that's why." I know, kids, that's the like the most maddening thing you can hear from your parents. But sometimes it's the only answer that will do because there is no explanation that you will accept.

Now I am not suggesting today that the conversation God and Job finally have at the end of this story is exactly like that. But let's listen to what happened and maybe you'll agree with me that from Job's perspective, it could have come off like that.

We've been thinking about how Job handled the awful things that happened to him. We heard the terrible story in the first week of how he lost everything. He lost all of his possessions, his family, and his own health. He was a sick and suffering man. Worst of all, he had no idea why all of this was happening to him.

We know the story of how Satan came and challenged God saying, "Job is only faithful to you because of all you do for him. Take that away and Job will curse you to your face." God knew better. So he allowed the test. But Job didn't know that. Now his worldview is simple with regard to this stuff. God is just and he makes sure that good people prosper and wicked people suffer. Problem is, Job knows good and well that he's been faithful and righteous before God. So why is this all this happening? His friends come along and they share his worldview so they suggest that Job must have done something wrong to get all this.

And even if he hadn't done anything wrong before the way he's talking to God now is enough to bring the wrath of heaven down on your head. And all this while, through all this suffering and all these questions - God is silent. Until now. We finally come to chapter 38 and we hear the simple but almost terrifying words: "Then the Lord answered job out of the storm." Well, it's about time, we think. After all of this, Job deserves an answer for all that has happened.

Here's the amazing thing: God doesn't give Job an answer. God speaks to Job for what takes up four whole chapters here but he never (at least to our way of thinking) gives Job an answer. Here's a summary of what God says: "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? Can you find your way to where lightening is launched or to the place from which the wind blows? Did you teach the lioness to stalk her prey? Are you the one who gave the horse his prowess and adorned him with a shimmering mane? Was it through your knowledge that the hawk learned to fly? Did you teach the eagle to build her nest in the heights?" And God goes on and on like that, putting Job in his place.

Now I don't know how you hear that but to me it sounds an awful lot like, "Because I said so, that's why." I wouldn't expect that response to be very well received by Job. We've heard something of how bitter his lament to God has been. Are you a little offended by God's answer? Job was not. Believe it or not, after all of this, he wasn't offended. In fact it's rather amazing to hear how Job responds to God's speech and that's indeed the passage we read together this morning.

When Job is confronted with the sovereign power of God his only response is, "You know, you're right. I babbled on about things far beyond me, made small talk about wonders way over my head." Job has what we would consider to be fair questions. Yet God never answers them. His only answer is, "Are you man enough to face me? Do you really think you understand who I am and what I'm up to?"

To me the most revealing thing Job says in this whole book is verse 5 of chapter 42: "My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you." Peterson puts it this way: "I admit I once lived by rumors of you. Now I have it all firsthand."

Something powerful and 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's suffering became an unlikely friend in teaching him the deepest lessons he would ever know about the God that he loved and served with all of his heart.

Job comes to a transformed understanding, as we hear in verse 6, of what it means to be dust and ashes before and God and in the world. His eyes are opened and he sees himself, the world, and God in a whole new way.

I guess 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 view 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.

The story is told of a young man, named Peter, who attended the University of Minnesota in Minneapolis. An art-student friend of his asked if he could paint Peter's portrait for a class assignment. Peter agreed, and the art student painted and submitted the portrait, only to receive a grade of "c minus." The art student approached the professor to ask why the grade was so poor. The teacher told him that the proportions in the painting were incorrect. "The head is too big," the professor explained. "The shoulders are too wide, and the feet are enormous."

The next day, the art student brought Peter to see the professor. He took one look at Peter and said, "Okay, I'll change your grade to an "A."

Sometimes you must have to see for yourself. And this is what suffering does for us. It helps us to see in ways we could not possibly see without it. When I know someone has suffered greatly in their life I listen very carefully to what they have to say. There is something about facing the deep mystery of God that only suffering puts us in touch with that can help us to see more 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.

Now Job has always held firmly to his conviction that God is all-powerful. He never questioned that. What he questioned in his lamenting, however, was God's consistent execution of justice. But having been confronted by the amazing way God has created the world, Job admits that these matters are too wonderful for him to understand.

Now you might say, "Well Job let God of the hook. He lay down. He copped out." I don't think so. I think what Job learns in all of this is that humility before God and surrender to his lordship is absolutely essential for a vital relationship with God. What Job demonstrates here is that God was absolutely right about him, and Satan was absolutely wrong. Job serves God for who he is, not for any personal gain or benefit, not even his own justification.

From now on Job will locate his self-worth in his relationship with God, not in his own moral behavior or innocence. That's the new vision that Job has. That's what he now sees that he couldn't see before. When Job sees God, his focus shifts from his own situation and his own vindication to worship, a simple need to prepare his heart before a holy God. He humbles himself before God because communion with God is more important to him than answers or release from his affliction or personal vindication. And in truth I suspect that when Job finally saw God, the "answers" really didn't matter.

I remember on the day that Judie Hooven died, a neighbor who was there said to me, "I guess we'll just have to add this to the list of questions we have for God when we get to heaven." I understand what he means. I've definitely got some questions. But you know, I think what we sometimes say about this is probably very right. Probably when we get there and finally see Jesus face to face and behold 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 us is, "If it won't matter then, why do we let it matter so much now?"

It wasn't been wrong for Job to complain, we talked about that last week. But he can now see that the zealous pursuit of a "right" eventually erects a barrier between God and us. And right there is a powerful lesson that we can learn from Job. I wonder if there aren't many of us in this sanctuary today who are still holding God at arms length because he has yet to answer us the way we want him to.

Suffering has the power to teach us that peace is not in the answers. Peace is in God himself. Suffering has the power to teach us that security is not a matter of having all the questions dealt with. Security is a matter of entrusting my whole life to the God who is before all, and over all and in all.
If suffering, hardship, difficulty is going to become the unexpected friend to us that I believe God intends it to be, then we must find the posture Job found at the end of this terrible experience: surrender to the sovereignty of God.

It's in that worshipful, trustful surrender that we can finally say with Job: "My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you."