The Almighty Has Dealt Bitterly with Me (Ruth 1:18-22)

Statue of Ruth and Naomi, by Leonard Baskin (1922-2000)

When Naomi saw that she was determined to go with her, she said no more to her.

So the two of them went on until they came to Bethlehem. When they came to Bethlehem, the whole town was stirred because of them, and the women said, “Is this Naomi?” She said to them,

“Call me no longer Naomi;
    call me Mara,
    for the Almighty has dealt bitterly with me.
I went away full,
    but the Lord has brought me back empty;
why call me Naomi
    when the Lord has dealt harshly with me
    and the Almighty has brought calamity upon me?”

So Naomi returned together with Ruth the Moabite, her daughter-in-law, who came back with her from the country of Moab. They came to Bethlehem at the beginning of the barley harvest. (New Revised Standard Version)

A famine in Judah had brought Naomi and her husband Elimelech to the country of Moab. While there, they had two sons who eventually married two Moabite women: Orpah and Ruth. Over time, each of the husbands died, leaving Naomi and her two daughters-in-law as widows.

Naomi heard that things were finally better in her native Judah. So, she decided to go there, alone. Naomi encouraged her daughters-in-law to remain with their own people and remarry. Orpah did so. Ruth, however, wasn’t having it.

Ruth was determined to stay with her mother-in-law – which meant that she would enter Judah as a foreigner. Despite Naomi’s insistence that Ruth do what is best for herself, Ruth stuck with Naomi.

Once they arrived, the people of Naomi’s hometown were surprised to see the two of them. Naomi was not shy about communicating her bitterness in losing a husband and two sons. She commented that God had turned against her and made her life hard and bitter.

In saying that the Lord had emptied her and brought calamity, Naomi was not speaking against God. Rather, Naomi was expressing some significant theology that has become lost to many modern day Christians around the globe.

Ruth and Naomi, by Morris Nathanson (1927-2022)

I believe that Ruth was not expressing something malevolent about God, but rather made a statement of faithful recognition, not unlike what Job had to say when he lost his family and his health:

“Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return there; the Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” (Job 1:21, NRSV)

No one can escape the dark side of life. Yet, we can deal with that darkness intelligently. It is most necessary to be aware that light creates a shadow that was not there before. The bigger and brighter the light, the bigger and darker the shadow.

There is a centuries old idiom which says, “You can’t have your cake, and eat it, too!” This is a proverbial way of saying that we cannot expect everything to always be good in this life; we must also accept that we cannot always have our way, and that we will go without, experiencing loss.

Whether we want to acknowledge it, or not, an integral part of life is receiving some bad things from God. The Lord does not just go around dispensing everyone’s wishes and making everything a utopia of unicorns and butterflies.

God is most certainly benevolent; yet God also brings darkness to people. We cannot have the Light of the world without experiencing the world’s darkness. Another way of stating this is that a very big God creates quite a large shadow.

In Christianity, the predominant symbol is the cross. The Cross of Christ is both light and dark. Christians may reflexively associate the cross with salvation from sin, while forgetting that the cross is an instrument of torture and death, a tool of execution, like an electric chair.

We must honor the axis crossing at the center of the cross. It is the place of equilibrium, the place of wholeness, where we have the opportunity of integrating all of that unwanted grief and loss into our lives. Failing to do this, let alone neglecting to acknowledge the shadowy places of our hearts, brings harm and hurt to ourselves and to the world.

Naomi acknowledged the shadow. She accepted the darkness, which enabled her to return to her homeland of Judah, the very place where the God of light and dark is worshiped.

I’m not talking about the sort of darkness that is malevolent and mean-spirited, the darkness which comes from Satan. I’m talking about the darkness which weans us away from all things and the ways that hinder us from knowing God.

This is what St. John of the Cross was referring to in naming the dark night of the soul. In our quest to experience union with God, we journey through the darkness, and learn that purification isn’t simply putting something impure away. Purity of heart comes through joining with the God who is pure love itself.

“In the dark night of the soul, bright flows the river of God.”

St. John of the Cross

God loves us so much as to be nailed to a cross and suffer darkness. The Christian is to take up their cross and follow Jesus. That is, we embrace the darkness with an honest engagement of God and God’s world, and through a vulnerable assessment of our own shadow.

For if we fail to acknowledge our shadow, we shall fail to be in union with God.

Not only do many people disown the parts of themselves they don’t like, but they do the same with God – thus making God into their own image of how God should be, instead of taking God as God is.

If you have ears to hear, take this to heart: To accept and honor your own shadow is a profound and necessary spiritual discipline. By “shadow” I mean all of the characteristics of myself that I withhold from others, so that they will only see what I want them to see.

We often put a false self out into the world, for others to see. It is a sort of psychological clothing we wear, much as we have actual clothing. Whether the clothes are real or metaphorical, we dress ourselves in the particular way we want to be seen.

Naomi was a true Israelite, showing her honest true self. There was no separation or division between the inner self and the self she presented to others.

I tend to think that Naomi knew something about God that many don’t know today – and was therefore able to be faithful to both her people and her God.

It is no wonder, then, that Ruth wanted to remain with her mother-in-law Naomi, who was a real person acknowledging the real God.

Almighty God and Father, maker of heaven and earth, of all that is seen and unseen: You are the God of light who illumines our way. And You are the God of darkness who is shadowed in mystery. In knowing You, may I know myself; and in knowing myself, may I more fully know You. Amen.

Be Honest (Job 42:7-9)

Job’s Sacrifice, by William Blake (1757-1827)

After the Lord had finished speaking to Job, he said to Eliphaz, “I am angry with you and your two friends, because you did not speak the truth about me, the way my servant Job did. Now take seven bulls and seven rams to Job and offer them as a sacrifice for yourselves. Job will pray for you, and I will answer his prayer and not disgrace you the way you deserve. You did not speak the truth about me as he did.”

Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar did what the Lord had told them to do, and the Lord answered Job’s prayer. (Good News Translation)

After all of Job’s terrible trouble in losing everything and everyone he cared about; after all of the longwinded speeches of his supposed friends; and after God’s breaking of silence through unanswerable questions; the epilogue of the story brings us God’s verdict concerning Job and his situation.

God finally dispenses his assessment, and renders his judgment. The Lord was not at all happy with Job’s companions; and was pleased with Job. Therefore, God made a decision against the companions, and for Job.

Four times in three verses, God refers to Job as “my servant,” but does not describe the friends as such. It is Job, and not Job’s friends, who spoke truth. Only Job spoke words consistent with reality.

At best, the friends spoke unhelpful words. At the worst, their words were hurtful and full of hubris. In retrospect, they probably should have at least kept their mouths shut. And ideally, they could have been true comforters, and consoled Job in his agony.

This gets at something which I believe we all need to get a firm hold upon: Not extending help, mercy, and consolation to those in dire straits, pisses-off God.

It irks God because it is a misrepresentation of God’s basic character, and distorts God’s true nature.

Being dishonest and pretending to be okay when one is not…

telling someone who is hurting to suck it up and confess their sin…

believing that the world operates according to good guys getting health and wealth, and bad guys getting sickness and poverty…

downright angers the holy and merciful God of the universe.

Job, unlike the Three Stooges he had as friends, affirmed what is right and true:

  • God is the Sovereign of the universe who dispenses both good and bad (Job 2:10)
  • God is the One who gives and who takes away (Job 1:21)
  • God is the Lord to whom we must bow in willing submission (Job 42:5-6)

In the dialogue with his friends, Job rightly insisted that God is sometimes an enemy, and that God’s inexplicable silence and absence is unjust and destructive.

I don’t want you to easily pass over what I just referred to, or to flip-out over it. In truth, God is both present and absent. And God’s absence hurts. Sometimes, it hurts like hell. We must affirm that God is sometimes silent. There are times when it feels like God is on vacation and is paying no attention.

I want you to get ahold of this important dimension to the spiritual life:

Human pretentions and posturing only present a false self to God and the world. That sort of behavior angers God. The Lord wants honest vulnerability.

Whereas Job’s friends insisted on maintaining theological respectability and an ordered theological system, Job essentially said, “To hell with all that!”

And Job was right.

Job contended with God. He cried, yelled, and exposed his innermost thoughts and feelings to God. Job was real. No phoniness existed with him. Yet, Job did not forsake God, curse God, or say there was no God.

The genuine spiritual life is always a tricky and risky combination of devotion and confrontation toward God.

Job presented his true self to God.

Job’s friends presented to God what they believed God wanted to see and hear.

There is a big difference between those two approaches.

God affirmed Job. God was against Job’s friends.

Maybe today it is necessary to rethink what you have always believed it is which gets God’s affirmation, and what raises God’s ire.

If we cannot be honest about what we are really thinking, and about how we are really doing, then we are hopeless people. In that state, no one can help us. And God is not pleased.

The final verdict of God is that only the prayers of one who speaks truth, like Job, will be effectively heard. Less honest prayers, like those of Job’s wife and friends, are foolish and ineffective.

One of the big overall messages of the Book of Job is this: For God’s sake, be honest!

My own culture is one of Midwest nice. That’s a nice way of saying that Midwesterners are mostly dishonest creatures. Every Midwesterner I know, understands being nice and polite to someone’s face, and then speaking gossip and slander to their back.

Ask any Midwestern American how they are doing, and they’ll tell you, “Just fine,” or “Great!” or “The sun is shining,” or some other deflection or blathering lie about how they are really doing. More than once, I have actually heard a depressed person with suicidal ideation tell another person that they are “doing fine today.”

That sort of claptrap gets us nowhere, especially with God. The Lord is okay with you and I telling him what we really think, even if we are extremely upset with God. God isn’t bothered by our anger, yelling, or messed-up thinking. But God is bothered by our pretending, our dishonesty, and our false presentations.

None of this means that we must wear our heart on our sleeve. In fact, I have found that persons who declare to me that they “tell it like it is,” are some of the most false people on the planet. It’s usually a sign that I’m not going to get from them how they are really feeling. It usually means they’re angry, and want to talk smack against someone, without ever examining themselves.

Don’t be a jerk. There are nice jerks, and obnoxious jerks, but in the end, they’re all just jerks. You and I really can speak honest words of truth, without being a jerk about it.

Job was honest, real, raw, hurt, angry, sad, lonely, and grieving out of his mind. And he was no jerk. And God affirmed him.

Personally, I’d rather have God’s affirmation than anyone else’s. How about you?

Almighty God, help us to speak and act truthfully in all situations. May we be honest with ourselves and with others, building trust and integrity in our relationships. Thank you for your example of truth and honesty. Help us to follow in your footsteps and to live with authenticity.

Guide us to be honest even when it is difficult, recognizing that honesty is the foundation of trust and respect. Help us to confront our own falsehoods and to seek the truth in all aspects of our lives. May we create environments where honesty is valued and encouraged, fostering open and transparent communication.

We pray for those who struggle with honesty, asking for your guidance and support in their journey towards truthfulness. Thank you for the clarity and peace that comes from living honestly. Help us to embrace and uphold this value every day. Amen.

Feeling the Pain (Job 23:1-9, 16-17)

Then Job answered:

“Today also my complaint is bitter;
    his hand is heavy despite my groaning.
Oh, that I knew where I might find him,
    that I might come even to his dwelling!
I would lay my case before him
    and fill my mouth with arguments.
I would learn what he would answer me
    and understand what he would say to me.
Would he contend with me in the greatness of his power?
    No, but he would give heed to me.
There the upright could reason with him,
    and I should be acquitted forever by my judge.

“If I go forward, he is not there;
    or backward, I cannot perceive him;
on the left he hides, and I cannot behold him;
    I turn to the right, but I cannot see him….

God has made my heart faint;
    the Almighty has terrified me.
If only I could vanish in darkness,
    and thick darkness would cover my face. (New Revised Standard Version)

Here is Job, sitting on an ash heap, of all things, and feeling like an ash. His children are gone, all killed by tragic circumstances. His wealth is no more. And now he is lamenting, because he can do nothing else; he has painful nasty sores covering his body that won’t let him do anything.

Job and his friends, by Ilya Repin (1844-1930)

And if that isn’t enough, Job’s “friends” come and end up giving him unhelpful speeches about how all this suffering is really his fault. They reasoned (wrongly) that there must be loads of sin in Job’s life for him to be going through such horror. God is punishing him, they insist.

Job’s companions had initially started out well. For seven days they sat with him in silence (Job 2:13). But then, after a week had passed, they just couldn’t take it anymore. They had the compulsion to speak. And when they opened their mouths, it was merely a bunch of ignorant gobbledygook.  

The friends, the companions, were themselves having an existential theological crisis. Their worldview was being challenged and threatened. So, rather than be open-minded and consider that their views may need to be altered, the friends acted like enemies, accusing Job of sin.

At issue was their clear and clean theology of believing that good guys are blessed with wealth, health, and happiness; and bad guys are cursed with poverty, illness, and misery – like Job.

They could not imagine or entertain the thought that God would let a good person suffer like Job was suffering. Therefore, Job must be bad, and they tried to find that hidden sin within him  to which he must repent of.

Yet, in truth, not all suffering – even terrible grinding suffering – is the result of personal sin or bad decision-making. Sometimes, good people suffer horribly, too.

Times may change, but people throughout the ages don’t. Today, we still think along the same lines as the companions of Job. There is far too much blaming of victims for their victimization; and way too many flippant beliefs which say to others in a terrible situation things like, “You reap what you sow.”

Job, through all of the loss, tragedy, and then suffering from his friends, held onto his integrity. Even though Job knew his situation was undeserved, he did not curse God, nor his friends.

Job made the incredible claim that suffering is not always the result of one’s personal sin – something he himself might not have said before his tragic experiences.

But just because Job did not curse, does not mean he was nice and okay with what unfolded in his life. He wished he was never born. He felt like death would be preferable to living. He contended with God, and longed for justice. His ultimate wish was that God would just speak and say something, anything.

Job was hurting so terribly, that he had bitter words of despair for God. He could make absolutely no sense of what was happening. He could not understand why he was the brunt of so much suffering. It felt like God was attacking him, and he said so.

The silence and absence of God were palpable for Job. He longed to speak with God. And his greatest lament – out of all the reasons to lament – was the horrible feeling of being alone without God’s presence and consolation.

It is interesting that we have no mention in the story about Job’s friends speaking directly to God, or praying to God, or addressing God in any way.

They certainly felt free to tell Job who God is, and how God operates in the world. But there was never any intercession for their friend, and no words of crying out to God on behalf of Job. There was only words of rebuke and chastisement, words of hurt that were as painful as the physical sores on his body

The phrase I hear most often from people speaking to the person in grief and pain is, “You just need to be strong.” And a close second is, “Everything happens for a reason.” The latter phrase is simply unhelpful, and the former phrase is actually hurtful.

It is not a sin to be weak. Just in case you read that sentence too quickly, I will say it again: It. Is. Not. A. Sin. To. Be. Weak!

We understand that when someone breaks a bone, they’ll be limited with weakness for a while. And we make helpful accommodations to that effect. But when someone’s heart is broken, and their life emotionally shredded, we expect them to be strong for everyone else around them.

It may be true that everything happens for a reason, yet most of the time, none of us knows the reason why we’re going through what we’re going through. And we probably won’t, this side of heaven.

If we try to have explanations for everything, then we join the company of Job’s companions who had to try and understand what was happening. And their conclusions were very wrong.

However, there is nothing wrong with weeping with those who weep; and expressing pain, grief, and even anger – both for the one who laments, and those who lament with them.

Pain cannot be relieved unless it is acknowledged, affirmed, and addressed by both the one who suffers and the community who surrounds them.

Where there is lament, there are loud words and expressions of grief. When lament is said to God, then God can hold that person, and rock them in the arms of mercy.

But silence is agonizing. We need friends who will listen and grieve with us. It is vital to have companions who voice to God what we cannot voice in our weakness. All of us, together, must hold onto God, and trust that the Lord hears, and will answer.

As Jesus cried out on the cross, I cry out to you in pain, O God my Creator. Do not forsake me. Grant me relief from this suffering and preserve me in peace; through Jesus Christ my Savior, in the power of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Why? (Job 18:1-21)

Job speaks with his friends, by Gustave Doré, 1866

Then Bildad the Shuhite replied:

“When will you end these speeches?
    Be sensible, and then we can talk.
Why are we regarded as cattle
    and considered stupid in your sight?
You who tear yourself to pieces in your anger,
    is the earth to be abandoned for your sake?
    Or must the rocks be moved from their place?

“The lamp of a wicked man is snuffed out;
    the flame of his fire stops burning.
The light in his tent becomes dark;
    the lamp beside him goes out.
The vigor of his step is weakened;
    his own schemes throw him down.
His feet thrust him into a net;
    he wanders into its mesh.
A trap seizes him by the heel;
    a snare holds him fast.
A noose is hidden for him on the ground;
    a trap lies in his path.
Terrors startle him on every side
    and dog his every step.
Calamity is hungry for him;
    disaster is ready for him when he falls.
It eats away parts of his skin;
    death’s firstborn devours his limbs.
He is torn from the security of his tent
    and marched off to the king of terrors.
Fire resides in his tent;
    burning sulfur is scattered over his dwelling.
His roots dry up below
    and his branches wither above.
The memory of him perishes from the earth;
    he has no name in the land.
He is driven from light into the realm of darkness
    and is banished from the world.
He has no offspring or descendants among his people,
    no survivor where once he lived.
People of the west are appalled at his fate;
    those of the east are seized with horror.
Surely such is the dwelling of an evil man;
    such is the place of one who does not know God.” (New International Version)

It only makes sense that Bildad was expecting a sensible discussion with Job.

But it was not going to happen.

Why?

Because grief doesn’t make sense; it’s nonsensical, whimsical, and fractal.

If you’ve ever been in a discussion with someone in which the person speaks illogically, it’s likely that you tried to talk sensibly and logically, pointing out the thought process.

And if you have ever done that, it’s also likely that the person did not change one iota of what they said.

Why?

Because people are not primarily thinking creatures who happen to have emotions. Instead, people are emotional creatures who happen to think.

Why do people ask, “Why?”

Because they’re angry. It’s not a cerebral question; it’s an emotional question.

Bildad, a “friend” of Job, was exasperated with his carrying on about being innocent, contending with God, and expressing anger – which is rather funny, because Bildad himself was angry.

Why?

Because supposedly logical and controlled people have illogical and emotional issues, too.

Welcome to the human race, all of you who pride yourselves on your flawless logic and neatly formed theology.

There is a chunk of people in this world who think that everything either works, or ought to work, according to Cartesian coordinates.

A Cartesian coordinate system describes the position of points in space using perpendicular axis lines that meet at a point called the origin. Any given point’s position can be described based on its distance from the origin along each axis. In other words, Cartesian coordinates allow one to specify the location of a point.

So, why am I talking about Cartesian coordinates?

Because that is what Bildad the Shuhite was trying to do with Job, to fix him on a plane that he could understand.

Because in Bildad’s theological world, the wicked are punished by God with bad circumstances and suffering. In the Cartesian world, as the wickedness increases, so does the pain and suffering.

Hence, one is being punished by God… But does the world really operate according to Bildad’s conception of it?

Hell no! (apparently wicked people say that sort of thing when not in the Cartesian world; they should probably get right with God; and, by the way, sarcastic people are wicked, too)

Bildad went so far as to suggest that perhaps Job doesn’t know God at all.

After all, that’s where one goes in a conversation with someone who doesn’t conform to clear and tidy Cartesian-style theology.

They can preach hellfire and damnation to others, yet when another even uses the word “hell” in a phrase, that is where they’re going to go.

It seems that Bildad isn’t really making sense.

Why?

Because he’s stuck. He cannot imagine life outside of his theological bubble.

The difference between Bildad and Job is that Job will admit that he is stuck, confused, messed-up, angry, and has no decent answer to what is going on in his life.

Whereas Bildad would never admit such a thing, even though he is so far stuck in the mud that it would take a divine miracle to get him out.

In fact, it appears we all need a divine miracle.

But God is silent.

Why?

I don’t know. But I do know that it won’t be for long.

Everyone might want to brace themselves for what’s coming.

Why?

Because we will receive precisely what we’re looking for: A word from God. But it’s probably not going to be what we expect.

After all, we aren’t living in a world of Cartesian coordinates.

O Lord God almighty, Creator of heaven and earth: I admit that these people you created drive me nuts! And I’m one of them! I can barely live with myself, let alone others.

In my wondering and confusion and pain, it’s hard to focus on anything. I don’t know why everything is upside-down and topsy-turvy. Yet, somehow I know, and am convinced, that you are present with me, and that you love me.

How in the world could I accept good from you, and not bad? If you love me, and are present with me, then I believe that whatever happens from this point forward, I shall not be forsaken by you.

Contend with those who contend against me. Help me with today, for tomorrow has enough worries of its own. Amen.