Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is the Old Testament lesson from Job 38.
A couple weeks ago, I told you that
my favorite part of my job as a pastor is to help the Christian conscience be
in a good relationship with God, to see him- or her-self as God sees them: holy
and blameless in the death and resurrection of Christ, as baptized children of
God.
If that’s my favorite part, one
of the hardest parts of my job is to sit with the suffering child of God, the
person wrestling with the hard things of life in this world. There is almost no
end to the possibilities: physical, mental, economic, social, relational,
spiritual, emotional; troubles for the self, troubles for a loved one, troubles
about friends, family, neighbors, the world all around. How do you encourage
someone whose life has been turned upside down by a test, a phone call, an ugly
word, an “I do” that became an “I don’t”?
In times like this, the Christian
often, and rightly, seeks answers, guidance, and help from the Scriptures. This
is good; as God’s people, His Word is where we turn when we need His voice. One
of those places often turned to in the Scripture in times of suffering is the
book of Job, because suffering is the undercurrent that runs through the entire
38 chapters. It’s a long read, but it would be worth your time to spend a few
hours and make that your Bible reading for the next week or so.
If you’re not familiar with Job,
it’s a long narrative of a faithful man of God who had it all – large family,
nice house, land, livestock, and great wealth – and then loses everything. We,
the readers, are given insight in the first chapter of a cosmic, heavenly
battle between Satan and God. Satan argues Job is faithful only because of the Divine
protection around his material blessings, “Does Job fear God for no reason?”
(1:9). God gives Satan permission to take everything from Job but his life, and
satan proceeds to do just that. Mauraders kill the servants and run off with
the livestock. His children are killed by a tornado that destroys the house
they were in. His health is ruined by boils and rashes. Even though he argues
his innocence and doesn’t deserve such a thing, Job’s existence becomes so
miserable that very quickly Mrs. Job begs that her husband curse God and just
die, already.
Along come three friends: Bildad,
Eldad and Zophar. Job was in such terrible shape that when they first arrived,
they didn’t even recognize their friend. What do you say to your friend who is
in that kind of agony, misery and grief – so bad, you’re not sure who they are;
so bad, they’re more dead than alive? They wept and raised their hands to
heaven – presumably in prayer – and then covered themselves in sack cloth and
ash, signs of empathetic grief and humility for their friend, and sat with him
for seven days in silence.
Bildad, Eldad, and Zophar get
full credit for sitting with Job for seven long and heavy days. It takes a lot
of intestinal fortitude to sit with someone like Job who has lost so much,
looks so miserable, and who doesn’t understand the “why,” and who cries out to
God for help, for relief, for mercy. It’s hard, heavy, work to lament for them
and to bear their lamentations with them. It’s hard to sit with someone you
love, and it’s even harder and more humbling to admit that you have no answers,
that there is no Easy Button, and that other than support and love, you cannot
do the impossible and fix the problem, make it better.
But then, I guess the empathy
started to grow thin, the novelty of camping outside in the dust got old, the
sack cloth and ash started to chafe, and all of Job’s complaining and demanding
his innocence – particularly in the face of such seeming evidence of guilt - finally
got to them, because the three friends, who started off so well, became Job’s
enemies. I suspect it was a combination of frustration at their friend’s
situation, their inability to make it better, and his righteous indignation of
innocence that the friends made the mistake of putting themselves in the place
of God. They accused Job of secret sins and demanded Job repent. Because God
punishes the wicked, they said, and Job was being punished, ergo: Job had to be
guilty, he was getting what he deserved and, actually, he should be thankful because
he probably deserved worse! Elihu goes
so far as to dare to speak for God, when he said, “Bear with me a little and I
will show you, for I have something to say on God’s behalf. I will get my
knowledge from afar and ascribe righteousness to my Maker, for my words are not
false,” (36:2-3).
And, that’s where the friends
sinned against both God and Job. While the child of God can speak certain
things in God’s name and on His behalf, it is only what He gives us to speak.
To the repentant, we can speak mercy, grace, and forgiveness. To the broken, we
can speak of His love and certainty in the promises to care for those who are
broken and beaten down. To the impenitent, we speak to call them to repentance,
not under our judgement, but under the Word of God. What we cannot do, what we
must not do, is speak where God is silent, no matter how uncomfortable this might
be.
Job wants to know God’s “why?”
This is the human condition. Why the wildfires in the Panhandle this spring,
why a hurricane along the coast, why flooding in the Midwest, why did she get
sick, why did he lose his job, why the world in conflict. In those infamous
words, why can’t we all just get along? Zthese are fair questions. The Psalms
often implore of God those great interrogatories: why this? When will you help?
How long, O Lord? This is important for you to know, that in your Job-like
moment, when the physical, mental, emotional, economic, social, personal,
familial crisis comes, you – the baptized child of God – can, in good
conscience, call out, cry out, yell to God with those questions. “I don’t know…I
don’t understand…why?” It’s the interrogatory that goes with the supplication
of faith, “Lord, have mercy.” It is not a sin to ask God for answers. The
question acknowledges our plight and place in a fallen world and, looking in
faith to God, trusting that He will hear our prayers for the sake of Jesus
Christ and, in His own good, Fatherly way, answer our prayers for the sake of
His glory and our temporal and eternal well-being.
Often, Christians speak of
someone who is long-suffering as “having the patience of Job.” The irony is
that when you sit with Job and read his narrative, you discover he is anything
but patient. He demands of God that he is owed answers, that God should explain
Himself to Job, and – most of all – he does not deserve anything of what has
happened. No: don’t see Job as a mild mannered, well-behaved man who takes it
all on the chin with quiet faithfulness. See him as a fiery, passionate soul whose
open palms become fists raised to heaven demanding an audience with God. And
that is where he overstepped. One can ask of God, but one cannot demand of God.
One can plead with God, but one cannot base that plea on his or her innocence.
One can look to the Lord for redemption, but one cannot argue that redemption
is deserved because he or she hasn’t done anything wrong.
And, finally, after 37 chapters
of Job’s demanding, God answers from a whirlwind. I wonder if this wasn’t the
same kind of stormy wind that Ezekiel saw with swirling, fire-laden clouds,
roaring with thunder and lightening, almost beyond human description. Job’s
children were killed by a tornadic wind under satan’s control to tempt Job to
surrender his faith. This whirlwind was the presence of God, and if the
question in chapter one was “Does Job fear God?” this manifestation as about to
put that question to the test as the voice of God calls out. “Who is this that
darkens counsel by words without knowledge? Dress for action like a man; I will
question you and you make it known to me. Where were you when I laid the
foundation of the earth? Tell me if you have understanding.” Over the
next two chapters, God identifies Himself as the God of creation, Job as part
of that creation. From the highest of mountains to the bottom of the sea, God
knows all things and places each piece in its place, and cares for it as part
of His creation – including Job. Finally,
God concludes, “Shall a faultfinder contend with the Almighty? He who argues
with God, let him answer it.”
For the child of God who is
suffering, as was Job, God’s speech is almost as hard as His silence. The
rhetorical comments remind Job that He owes Job no answer to the questions
asked. It would be very easy for Job, or for today’s Christian for that matter,
to again raise angry fists at God and demand, again, that He just answer the
question.
If God were to explain Himself to
us – and He’s not going to – but if He were, we would not understand it,
anyway. You want interrogatories? How would it be possible for creation to
grasp the mind of the Creator? How could sinful man comprehend the holiness of
God? How could mere mortals fathom that which is without beginning or end?
A moment ago, I said Job’s
friends got in trouble when they dared to speak for a silent God. But, I also asked
you the question, “what do you say to the child of God who is suffering
terribly?” How do you answer when God Himself doesn’t answer the “why?”
Remember, the friends started out
well. They showed up. That’s a great start. And, sometimes, silence is a good
thing. You do not have to fill silence with words. In the silence, pray for
wisdom, pray for knowing when to speak and what to say. Don’t offer cute, pithy
sayings that sound good but aren’t. “God never gives you more than you can handle”
is neither helpful nor Biblical. “He brought you to it, He’ll see you through
it,” likewise isn’t great. Ask Job. Other things, while Biblical, may not be
the right time or place. “All things work for good for those who endure,” might
be true, but again, in the moment it may not be the best of timing. I’ll tell
you this: rarely is there a silver word that makes everything OK. It often
takes a lot of conversation to help.
So, if you can’t say those
things, then what can you say? You humbly say, “I have no idea why God has done
this, or allowed this to happen.” You don’t need to explain God or defend Him
in that moment. It’s not your place. You speak of Jesus. You do so, something
like this:
How could we begin to fathom the
God who loved sinful man and fallen creation enough that He would surrender His
only-begotten Son to redeem the world and all that is in it, restoring it to
the holiness and perfection that He created it to be? Our “whys” aren’t the
only one unanswered: That sinless Son of God, who was baptized to fulfill all
righteousness, who lived in our fallen world, who remained holy and blameless,
hung on the cross and cried out the most pure “why” of all time: “Why have you
forsaken me?” That remained unanswered as well, as the full weight of God’s
silence weighed down on Jesus, the one who was truly righteous. Our question of
“why is this happening” is answered by the answer to another question: “How are
we rescued?” Through Jesus.
You can say: God promises you
again and again that because He is your Father in Heaven, He’ll be with
you. You weren’t there when God created the world, yet you can be sure
that the One who created and sustains the world also holds you, His beloved child,
in His hands. You weren’t there when the oceans were set into place, but
God promises you that spiritual and emotional oceans will never overwhelm you.
In the middle of the darkness of Sin and sorrow, Jesus stands as the
light of the world. He’s the one who promises us that the darkness will
never overcome us because He endured it for us.
If you’re asked “How?” turn back
to that wonderful mystery of the majesty of God. He knows things we
don’t. He knows the future like He knows the past and He knows how He’s
going to work all the unanswered questions for our good. We may not ever
see it, it may not come to completion until the resurrection of all flesh, but
He promises it. He can create so certainly He can use evil for good and
pain for pleasure.
You know this through
faith. It’s hard to take things on faith, we like answers and evidence,
so God gives us answers and evidence in His Son Jesus Christ. You can
look to Jesus as the answer to all your questions. He embraced pain and suffering
for you. Jesus’ lonely question, “Why have you forsaken me?” assures
you that God will never forsake you as you walk through the valley of the
shadow. Christ walked there first, into it and through it, and now He’s
there walking with you.
And, then you tell your friend, “And,
I’ll walk with you too. We’ll walk together, pray together, and cry together,
and we’ll trust, together, that one day, God will our answer our “why” with His
own voice.
Amen.
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