Making Sense of Faith and Trouble? (Job 15:1-35)

Job with his friends, by Gerard Seghers (1591-1651)

Then Eliphaz the Temanite replied:

“Would a wise person answer with empty notions
    or fill their belly with the hot east wind?
Would they argue with useless words,
    with speeches that have no value?
But you even undermine piety
    and hinder devotion to God.
Your sin prompts your mouth;
    you adopt the tongue of the crafty.
Your own mouth condemns you, not mine;
    your own lips testify against you.

“Are you the first man ever born?
    Were you brought forth before the hills?
Do you listen in on God’s council?
    Do you have a monopoly on wisdom?
What do you know that we do not know?
    What insights do you have that we do not have?
The gray-haired and the aged are on our side,
    men even older than your father.
Are God’s consolations not enough for you,
    words spoken gently to you?
Why has your heart carried you away,
    and why do your eyes flash,
so that you vent your rage against God
    and pour out such words from your mouth?

“What are mortals, that they could be pure,
    or those born of woman, that they could be righteous?
If God places no trust in his holy ones,
    if even the heavens are not pure in his eyes,
how much less mortals, who are vile and corrupt,
    who drink up evil like water!

“Listen to me and I will explain to you;
    let me tell you what I have seen,
what the wise have declared,
    hiding nothing received from their ancestors
(to whom alone the land was given
    when no foreigners moved among them):
All his days the wicked man suffers torment,
    the ruthless man through all the years stored up for him.
Terrifying sounds fill his ears;
    when all seems well, marauders attack him.
He despairs of escaping the realm of darkness;
    he is marked for the sword.
He wanders about for food like a vulture;
    he knows the day of darkness is at hand.
Distress and anguish fill him with terror;
    troubles overwhelm him, like a king poised to attack,
because he shakes his fist at God
    and vaunts himself against the Almighty,
defiantly charging against him
    with a thick, strong shield.

“Though his face is covered with fat
    and his waist bulges with flesh,
he will inhabit ruined towns
    and houses where no one lives,
    houses crumbling to rubble.
He will no longer be rich and his wealth will not endure,
    nor will his possessions spread over the land.
He will not escape the darkness;
    a flame will wither his shoots,
    and the breath of God’s mouth will carry him away.
Let him not deceive himself by trusting what is worthless,
    for he will get nothing in return.
Before his time he will wither,
    and his branches will not flourish.
He will be like a vine stripped of its unripe grapes,
    like an olive tree shedding its blossoms.
For the company of the godless will be barren,
    and fire will consume the tents of those who love bribes.
They conceive trouble and give birth to evil;
    their womb fashions deceit.” (New International Version)

The biblical character of Job had asked the friends to hear him out on his case against God. But they did not stay quiet and listen. Instead, they got irritated with Job and accused him of sin.

One of the three friends, Eliphaz, went from exhortation to an outright rebuke of Job. He took him to task on what he was saying, and gave Job a hellfire sermon designed to get him right with God.

Eliphaz had a problem with Job’s approach to God. Yet, we as readers know that none of this suffering was Job’s fault. In reality, it was Eliphaz who had the problem: He was stuck in a particular way of thinking to the point of not being able to entertain another’s point of view.

Each of the three friends did not distinguish between their assumptions and the truth. They had such engrained habits of thinking and living, that their minds were not open to the experience of Job being anything but sinful.

The major presupposition that Eliphaz held is that anyone who experiences such extreme hardship and suffering as Job is being punished by God. And that was a false presupposition.

There is a tragic irony with the story of Job and his friends. Eliphaz assessed Job’s situation and words as wicked. What’s more, Eliphaz believed that Job added to that sin by contending with God and insisting on his own personal innocence.

Yet, what Eliphaz said about Job was actually true about himself. Eliphaz was the one speaking out of ignorance and pride, as if he knew how the universe really works. In truth, Eliphaz was talking about himself, without knowing it.

Eliphaz presupposed, assumed, and believed that wicked persons are the ones who experience a life of pain, terror, illness, and deprivation. Thus, Job is wicked. And therefore, believed Eliphaz, Job’s future destiny was in jeopardy.

Is crying out in pain and giving a vulnerable yell toward God sin? Is it a sign of wickedness? Will it lead one to hell?

In the view of Eliphaz, yes. Because to challenge God is to rebel against God. To experience extreme suffering is a sign of personal wickedness against God.

By taking a good hard look at the entirety of the Book of Job, I can say with confidence that Eliphaz was, at best, ignorant; and, at worst, hurtful. He had no idea how off target he really was. The sinner in the room was not Job; it was Eliphaz.

The friends had too simple and easy of a theology of suffering. They equated Job’s suffering with God’s punishment. Reading the story of Job, however, challenges that simplistic theology.

Job insisted that his supposed punishment was undeserved. And he was right. Terrible misfortune is not necessarily a result of personal sin or wickedness.

The piety of Job was strong enough to accept the misfortune that fell upon him, without rebelling against God (Job 1:10). Yet, Job’s faithfulness to God could not make sense between his agonizing suffering, the loss of property and family, and God’s silence and purpose in it all.

And maybe that is, in part, the point of the Book of Job – that there are people all over the world who undergo hard circumstances and grinding loss, without knowing why they are going through it.

Hopefully, this awakening to the suffering of others will kindle within us a more compassionate spirit and empathetic presence with those feeling the nonsensical situations of their lives.

Almighty God, I bring to you all those who suffer in body, mind, spirit or with grief. May your loving kindness and divine presence sustain them in the midst of their pain. May those who are stretched beyond their capacity to cope and remain hopeful gain a sense of coherence, comfort and strength in the Lord. Amen.

How Long, O Lord? (Psalm 80)

Hear us, Shepherd of Israel,
    you who lead Joseph like a flock.
You who sit enthroned between the cherubim,
    shine forth before Ephraim, Benjamin and Manasseh.
Awaken your might;
    come and save us.

Restore us, O God;
    make your face shine on us,
    that we may be saved.

How long, Lord God Almighty,
    will your anger smolder
    against the prayers of your people?
You have fed them with the bread of tears;
    you have made them drink tears by the bowlful.
You have made us an object of derision to our neighbors,
    and our enemies mock us.

Restore us, God Almighty;
    make your face shine on us,
    that we may be saved.

You transplanted a vine from Egypt;
    you drove out the nations and planted it.
You cleared the ground for it,
    and it took root and filled the land.
The mountains were covered with its shade,
    the mighty cedars with its branches.
Its branches reached as far as the Sea,
    its shoots as far as the River.

Why have you broken down its walls
    so that all who pass by pick its grapes?
Boars from the forest ravage it,
    and insects from the fields feed on it.
Return to us, God Almighty!
    Look down from heaven and see!
Watch over this vine,
    the root your right hand has planted,
    the son you have raised up for yourself.

Your vine is cut down, it is burned with fire;
    at your rebuke your people perish.
Let your hand rest on the man at your right hand,
    the son of man you have raised up for yourself.
Then we will not turn away from you;
    revive us, and we will call on your name.

Restore us, Lord God Almighty;
    make your face shine on us,
    that we may be saved. (New International Version)

What do you do when your life is not going as expected? How do you deal with the confusion of unwanted circumstances you didn’t ask for?

Nobody willingly signs up for chronic pain, constant hardship, debilitating situations, and unanswered prayer. And yet, all of us know what it feels like to have our hearts broken over a child, parent, or relative; or to be grief-stricken with either a physical malady, mental disease, emotional disorder, spiritual abuse, or some combination of them.

The psalmist most certainly knows your difficulty and your pain. That’s because he intimately knew God – and still had questions! In fact, all of us who worship and adore the Lord have faced the conundrum that God seems, at times, to be missing in action.

We may wonder, like the psalmist, where the God of the past is. Where is the One who manhandled enemies, provided for the godly, and brought abundant life? The Lord might sometimes seem to be foreign to our human condition, and far from our human experience of things.

There are plenty of stories in the Bible about God doing the miraculous, bringing deliverance, and extending help in dire situations. Yet, for many, in this present time, there is silence. Prayer after prayer brings nothing but bupkis from God. A sullen angst can easily settle into our spiritual bones.

It could also be that people we love and care for are experiencing too many hardships, boatloads of anxiety, and are wracked with worry. And we wonder why God has not risen up to answer our prayers on their behalf.

How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?
    How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
    and day after day have sorrow in my heart?
    How long will my enemy triumph over me? (Psalm 13:1-2, NIV)

The very fact that with only a cursory look at the news there are children dying in war, senseless murders in the streets, and wanton destruction throughout the world, we may cry out, “Where is God in all this? Wake up! How long, O Lord, must we endure this!?”

Even the small tragedies of life might push us beyond what we can bear, because grief is stacked upon grief in a big lamentable sandwich of spiritual hurt. And if God seems nowhere to be found, our afflictions are multiplied.

The psalmist drew upon agricultural metaphors that his culture was quite familiar with. A society of farmers knows how much hard work is involved in their vocation – and the hours of anxiety and concern for the field to produce some crops and bear some fruit.

Farmers very much realize the power that nature can do through either drought or flood, hail or wind. The picture of the attentive farmer, gardener, and vinedresser is an apt picture of how God looks upon us.

I grew up on an Iowa farm. I have an intimate understanding of the requirements for tending to the land so that it will produce a crop, and yield a good harvest. Like many jobs, farming isn’t something that requires the same amount of attention every single day.

There are times and seasons for a high degree of activity, like planting in the Spring and harvesting in the Fall. At other times, there isn’t much to do but wait.

By no means does the farmer expect the plants to grow overnight. The faithful farmer learns to be patient, knowing that it will be weeks before anything breaks the ground; and that it will take all summer for the crops to grow and mature before they are ready for harvest.

In those times of inactivity, the corn stalks don’t start talking to one another about where the farmer went to, and whether he is off fishing or not. Even though the farmer is absent, the actions of the farmer are still very much evident.

Our own wonderings and questions about God’s presence and absence are all understandable and valid. Yet, we must keep in mind that there is continual evidence all around us that the Lord has been at work, and is still laboring as the Divine Gardener in ways we cannot see.

God is continually watching over us, ensuring that we have the proper conditions of sun, water, and good soil in order to grow, thrive, and produce a harvest of righteousness. We will still face the adverse circumstances of inclement weather, unfavorable weeds, and pests eating on and around us. Yet, we already and always have everything we need to live a successful spiritual life – without choking or starving to death.

We are not going to have all of our questions answered this side of heaven. We are, however, assured that God is good and can restore us when we are broken or failing to thrive. However, it just might take some time to do it, that’s all.

O God of heavenly powers, by the might of your command, drive away from our bodies all sickness and infirmity, and everything that brings us ill health of either body, mind, or spirit. Be present in your goodness with all your servants who are in need, that their weakness may be banished and strength restored; and that, with health renewed, they may bless your holy Name. Amen.

Distressed (Psalm 77)

I cry aloud to God;
    I cry aloud, and he hears me.
In times of trouble I pray to the Lord;
    all night long I lift my hands in prayer,
    but I cannot find comfort.
When I think of God, I sigh;
    when I meditate, I feel discouraged.

He keeps me awake all night;
    I am so worried that I cannot speak.
I think of days gone by
    and remember years of long ago.
I spend the night in deep thought;
    I meditate, and this is what I ask myself:
“Will the Lord always reject us?
    Will he never again be pleased with us?
Has he stopped loving us?
    Does his promise no longer stand?
Has God forgotten to be merciful?
    Has anger taken the place of his compassion?”
Then I said, “What hurts me most is this—
    that God is no longer powerful.”

I will remember your great deeds, Lord;
    I will recall the wonders you did in the past.
I will think about all that you have done;
    I will meditate on all your mighty acts.

Everything you do, O God, is holy.
    No god is as great as you.
You are the God who works miracles;
    you showed your might among the nations.
By your power you saved your people,
    the descendants of Jacob and of Joseph.

When the waters saw you, O God, they were afraid,
    and the depths of the sea trembled.
The clouds poured down rain;
    thunder crashed from the sky,
    and lightning flashed in all directions.
The crash of your thunder rolled out,
    and flashes of lightning lit up the world;
    the earth trembled and shook.
You walked through the waves;
    you crossed the deep sea,
    but your footprints could not be seen.
You led your people like a shepherd,
    with Moses and Aaron in charge. (Good News Translation)

Psalm 77, by Jeremy Grant

I Worry

You and I know what it feels like to be in trouble. We understand the sense, at times, of having our prayers bounce off the ceiling, as if our cries are not heard by heaven. Loneliness and discouragement are palpable. Sleep is elusive. Worries and racing thoughts go round and round in our heads, like some sort of demented NASCAR event.

Swirling around us like a black cloud are all the questions asked without any answers:

  • Has God walked off the job? Is the Lord ever coming back? Is God even there? Did the Lord retire from being God?
  • Is God angry at me? What have I done to piss him off? Is the Lord fed up with us?
  • Is the Lord really a God of love? Did grace run out of steam? Does God hate me?

Then, when the questions go unanswered without any replies, we begin to remember the good old days… when God was a mover and shaker in this messed up world… when the Lord delivered the people from Egyptian bondage… when God pulled people out of the worst kind of troubles….

We continue to reminisce, even recalling that the very elements of the earth were moved by the command of an almighty God: setting aside the Red Sea so that the people were delivered from impending doom… congealing the Jordan River so that the people could cross over into the Promised Land… causing clouds to form and belch out buckets of rain to end droughts in the land… and so much more….

Like a concerned and compassionate shepherd, protecting the sheep and caring for them, God had led the people out of slavery and into freedom, speaking to Moses, delivering people, moving mountains…. Yet, here I lay, hearing and experiencing bupkis from God. *Sigh*

So, what’s a spiritually sensitive person to do?

I and Thou

In 1937, the Jewish philosopher, Martin Buber wrote an insightful book entitled “I and Thou.” Buber postulated how people exist in the world and how they actualize that existence. We engage the world through both monologue and dialogue. For Buber, “all real living is meeting.” In other words, to exist, to live, is to encounter another and relate to a “Thou.” We only have meaning in relationships. We only have our being in God.

The psalmist acknowledges there is a “Thou” besides his distressed “I” – that this Thou will hear, make a difference, and open a way of deliverance… even if it might not happen right away. There are four actions the psalmist decides to do in his distress, actions which put him in a vital dialogue with the divine “Thou”… even if it seems like nothing is happening.

I Pray

Prayer, at its heart, is a dialogue with God. From the place of our spiritual poverty and bankruptcy, we beg; and God gives us the kingdom. To be a spiritual beggar, pleading for our needs to be met, knowing we have no way to repay, is a posture which God delights in.

You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule. (Matthew 5:3, MSG)

I Search

In the I and Thou relationship, the search works both ways.

You have searched me, Lord,
    and you know me.
You know when I sit and when I rise;
    you perceive my thoughts from afar.
You discern my going out and my lying down;
    you are familiar with all my ways….

Search me, God, and know my heart;
    test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me,
    and lead me in the way everlasting. (Psalm 139:1-2, 23-24, NIV)

I Remember

The psalmist intentionally sought to recall the mighty works of God, especially in delivering the people from slavery and bringing them to the Promised Land. In our forgetfulness, we get lost in our troubles and our perspective becomes skewed. We cannot see beyond the end of our nose. Remembering, however, grants us a fuller picture of what is happening in light of the past. It brings us out of the lonely “I” and into the relationship of “I and Thou.”

Remember those earlier days after you had received the light, when you endured in a great conflict full of suffering. 

Sometimes you were publicly exposed to insult and persecution; at other times you stood side by side with those who were so treated. You suffered along with those in prison and joyfully accepted the confiscation of your property, because you knew that you yourselves had better and lasting possessions. 

So do not throw away your confidence; it will be richly rewarded. You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised. (Hebrews 10:32-36, NIV)

I Meditate

Pondering and thinking upon God’s deeds enables praise to arise from us. It fosters the I and Thou relationship, bolstering and buoying our faith through life-events which produce our distress.

I lie awake thinking of you,
    meditating on you through the night.
Because you are my helper,
    I sing for joy in the shadow of your wings. (Psalm 63:6-7, NLT)

Thou Art Worthy

The psalm ends with no resolution to the personal distress of the psalmist. Whether there is a happy ending, or not, isn’t the point. It’s about the process.

The journey of moving through our troubles causes us to learn as much (or more) from God’s absence than of God’s presence. We learn how to pray, search, remember, and meditate because of and despite our troubles. We learn to relate to God and eventually proclaim that Thou art worthy.

Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honor and power: for thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created. (Revelation 4:11, KJV)

Amen.