Words fall short

Sky with moon

Job 38:1–11

Sometimes ancient writings detail struggles pertinent to a certain point in time, and other times they reflect struggles that have existed throughout human history. The poetry of Job is definitely an example of the latter. Questions of why righteous people suffer are just as relevant today as they were when the story of Job was first written down.

Job’s lack of context makes it challenging for scholars to pinpoint when it took place, or who the author might have been. It’s likely that the story of Job existed in oral tradition for centuries before it was recorded. Suggestions for possible authors range from Moses, whose authorship would make it one of the oldest Hebrew scriptures, to an author in the Hellenistic or Greek period, which would make it one of the youngest.

One thing on which scholars do agree is on the quality of the writing. The Hebrew poetry in Job is universally praised, and our English translations do not do it justice. Poetry is difficult to translate, in part because in a struggle to be true to the translation of a word or phrase, rhythm and other artistic elements of the language are often lost. The work of translation is made even more difficult due to different parts of Job being recorded at different times, and some portions likely being lost. As Bible scholar Robert Alter writes, “the text of Job has come down to us at many points quite garbled, making interpretation a matter of guesswork and repeatedly inviting emendation.” (Alter, loc. 5886)

That’s not to say that we’ve lost any key answers or significant tidbits of wisdom from the text, however. The story of Job is well-known, even among many who have not read it, and is often designated as providing answers to questions like why bad things happen to good people. After all, it’s one of the wisdom writings in Hebrew scripture. I don’t recommend approaching it with the expectation that you’ll walk away with any concise conclusions to life’s biggest questions, though.

I’m getting ahead of things. Since today’s passage comes from chapter 38 of Job, we should probably take a quick look at what’s happened thus far.

Job was a “blameless and upright” man with ten children, a number of servants, and a great deal of livestock. He’s so blameless and upright, in fact, that he is cited as such by the Lord in a discussion with a being known as the Adversary. The Adversary suggests that Job would not be so upright if adversity were to befall him. The Lord places the fate of Job’s children and possessions in the hands of the Adversary, and sometime later Job’s livestock, servants, and children are killed. After this comes to pass, Job mourns but does not sin or blame God.

The Lord and the Adversary have a similar discussion at a later time, this one centered on Job’s health. The Lord places Job’s health in the Adversary’s hands, and the Adversary inflicts loathsome sores on Job from head to toe. Job suffers greatly, but does not sin.

His friends Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar come to support him in his suffering, and do so quietly for seven days and nights. Following that, Job eloquently curses the day he was born, which begins a discussion with his friends that goes on for 27 chapters. Then a character named Elihu chimes in to correct Job and his friends, which he does for six chapters. It’s at that point that the Lord begins the questioning of Job, which starts with today’s passage.

Job doesn’t know about the interaction between the Lord and the Adversary, just like we don’t often know what goes on behind the scenes when misfortune befalls us. Especially when there’s no other human actor involved, such as is often the case with illness, people might question what divine involvement there could have been.

When I was working as a chaplain, those were the questions that often went unstated in the hospital rooms I visited. People were often willing to talk about their medical conditions, or to share their life stories, or to ask me to pray with them. For those facing death, though, or the death of a loved one, other questions would hang heavily in the room. Why do I have cancer? Why was my son in that motorcycle accident? Why is my baby dying?

I have to admit I was relieved those questions weren’t directed at me, though there were occasions when a patient would decline a visit. I suspect on some of those, that was because they saw me as a representative of the one they blamed for their situation.

I asked ChatGPT what the five most popular questions asked about God and suffering are. The reply included the following:

Why does a loving and omnipotent God allow suffering?

What is the purpose of suffering in God’s plan?

Why do good people suffer while bad people seem to prosper?

How should believers respond to their own suffering or the suffering of others?

Is suffering a result of human free will or divine will?

They say you should fact-check AI output, but on this occasion I think it looks solid. Maybe that’s because those questions haven’t changed much since the time Job was written.

There’s a school of thought in Christianity — and you can find scripture that will back it up — that suggests that if you have faith and/or exhibit good behavior, positive things will happen to you. I’ve heard people say, when hearing reports of answered prayer, “God is good, all the time,” or “Prayer works.” I don’t disagree with those statements, but the folks who offer those words in the face of good news don’t do so in the face of bad news or tragedy. I find this frustrating, because it could imply that when bad things happen, it’s because we didn’t pray hard enough or well enough or don’t have enough faith.

I usually try to avoid expressing theological certainty, but I think most folks would agree with me when it comes to the following: Bad things sometimes happen to good people, and good things sometimes happen to people who are selfish, careless, and cruel. The prayers of good people are often not answered in the way they seek, even when prayed devoutly and with utmost faith. I’ve known generous, loving people who have lost children to sickness and who have died young themselves. Of course there are situations where carelessness and unhealthy behavior leads to tragedy, but those are not always the causes. Sometimes we’re left only with our questions directed at the divine when seeking explanation.

Some scholars believe that, in its original form, the story of Job was much shorter, including only the beginning and ending as we know them. Thus, Job lost his children, wealth, and health, then later had everything restored. Robert Alter is one such scholar, and writes that the older version “is in all likelihood a folktale that had been in circulation for centuries, probably through oral transmission. In the original form of the story, with no debate involved, the three companions would not have appeared: instead, Job would have been tested through the wager between God and the Adversary, undergone his sufferings, and in the end would have had his fortunes splendidly restored.” (Alter, loc. 5879–5880)

That iteration of the story would convey a much different message than the one the poet scripted at a later date. Missing is the story of Job’s friends sitting silently with him for a week. Missing also are the questions and pleas of Job, as well as the theological assertions of his friends. And missing also is today’s scripture passage, which begins the Lord’s reaction to all that has been said by Job and the others.

“Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? . . . Who determined its measurements . . . Or who stretched the line upon it? . . . Who shut in the sea with doors . . . and prescribed bounds for it?”

We discussed these verses at our most recent Bible study, and came away with different thoughts. Perhaps for some the Lord’s response would provide comfort. Knowing God laid the earth’s cornerstone might offer perspective, or a foundation for hope. At the same time, and especially for those facing intense suffering, the words might prove lacking. As Alter writes,

“Many readers over the centuries have felt that God’s speech to Job is no real answer to the problem of undeserved suffering, and some have complained that it amounts to a kind of cosmic bullying of puny man by an overpowering deity. One must concede that it is not exactly an answer to the problem because for those who believe that life should not be arbitrary there can be no real answer concerning the good person who loses a child (not to speak of ten children) or the blameless dear one who dies in an accident or is stricken with a terrible wasting disease.” (Alter, loc. 5889–5890)

Job has his fortunes restored, but most of those who are looking for an answer to the problem of evil are probably not in that situation. And the Lord offers no succinct explanation. Instead, the response is broad and abstract, straining the limits of language and science available at that time. As Bible scholar Andrew Greenstein writes,

“God does not provide an explicit explanation of evil; [God] would seem to sidestep it. Accordingly, many readers assume that the answer lies between the lines, and so they interpret the Deity’s response as a demonstration of divine providence — in the way that God maintains an order in nature, so does God maintain a moral order, difficult as it may often be to discern it. Or they deduce, from the Deity’s demonstration to Job of how little he comprehends of the world, that God’s justice is as mysterious as the rest of creation.” (Greenstein, 1494)

It’s been over two thousand years since these words were written, but I suspect that — even with the growth in science and philosophy that has occurred in that time — we’re no closer to a satisfactory answer to the problems of evil and suffering than were our spiritual ancestors in the Ancient Near East.

That being the case, what value is there in wrestling with this ancient scripture? What’s offered by these lines of poetry and the space in between? Greenstein writes that “The book of Job promotes honesty in theological discourse and rejects a blind reliance on tradition.” (Greenstein, 1494) Far from encouraging a quiet acceptance of misfortune, Job can serve as an example of how to engage with the Lord. Job has big questions, and he directs them at the God he worships. This can be seen as license for us to do the same, raising prayers not only when we are feeling grateful or in need, but also when we are feeling angry and frustrated.

Job never learns about the council with the sons of God or the dealings with the Adversary that formed the backstory for his suffering. He doesn’t know that the Lord chose to place his fate and the fate of his children in the hands of a being whose intent was to do him harm. He is not being punished, and his accusations directed at God are affirmed (O’Brien), but none of that knowledge would offer him any comfort.

The Book of Job suggests that there are things beyond our comprehension. As Alter writes, “it rousingly introduces a comprehensive overview of the nature of reality that exposes the limits of Job’s human perspective, anchored as it is in the restricted compass of human knowledge and the inevitable egoism of suffering.” (Alter, loc. 5889–5890)

Sometimes it helps me to compare God to a parent. Parents are able to comprehend the world and what is best for their child in a way the child cannot. For instance, the parent knows that the temporary pain of a vaccination serves a greater purpose, that it’s not good to eat sweets for every meal, and that there are places you shouldn’t crawl. But as a child grows, oversight and boundaries have to be reduced. Speaking as a parent of a teenager, I’ll admit that stepping back can be hard, but I know my daughter can’t fully experience life if I’m always looking over her shoulder. So I increasingly have to stand aside, put my faith in her, and hope for the best.

I realize this analogy doesn’t always hold, and can’t explain away many tragedies. It introduces ideas around free will and God’s agency in human matters, but doesn’t do much to resolve the question of evil.

Sometimes I just have to remind myself that God is God and I am not. For as long as I live, I will not understand why the wicked often prosper and why those who strive for good often suffer. There are times when relinquishing the need to understand it all offers a sort of peace, but there are many times when it does not, especially in the face of pain.

For those of us sojourners trying to navigate this world together, perhaps the most valuable takeaway from Job comes from way back in chapter 2. When Job’s friends hear about the ills that have befallen him, they travel from their homes to join him, to offer consolation, and to provide comfort. When they see him, they weep, they tear their robes, and they throw dust in the air. Then they sit with him on the ground for seven days and nights in silence, bearing witness to his suffering.

When his friends are criticized, it’s for finding fault and armchair theologizing, not for their presence. Their words did nothing to ease the pain inflicted by the Adversary, though the Lord’s rejection of those words suggests “a radical challenge to the doctrine of reward for the righteous and punishment for the wicked.” (Alter, loc. 5877)

Sisters, brothers, siblings in Christ, Job provides no easy answers to questions of evil and suffering. But his story is a reminder that God sees us, that the Lord hears our cries of pain and anger, and that there are things beyond our understanding. And when all else seemingly fails, we can provide comfort to one another, with no words necessary.

Thanks be to God.

Amen.

Works Referenced

Alter, Robert. The Hebrew Bible: A Translation with Commentary. New York City: W.W. Norton & Company, Inc, 2019, Kindle edition.

Greenstein, Edward L. “Job.” In The Jewish Study Bible: Second Edition, edited by Adele Berlin and Marc Zvi Brettler. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014.

Newsom, Carol A. “Job.” In New Interpreter’s Bible, Volume III. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2015.

O’Brien, Julia. “Wisdom/Poetic literature.” OT100: Introduction to the Old Testament (class lecture, Lancaster Theological Seminary, Lancaster, PA, April 13, 2019).

Text generated by ChatGPT, OpenAI, June 13, 2024, https://openai.com/chatgpt/

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Intertwined: faith • community • ecology

Intertwined explores the intersection of faith & the environment. Based in the greater Harrisburg area. Visit intertwinedfc.org or @IntertwinedFC on socials.