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.

Suffering That Is Beyond Understanding (Job 2:11-3:26)

When Job’s three friends, Eliphaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite and Zophar the Naamathite, heard about all the troubles that had come upon him, they set out from their homes and met together by agreement to go and sympathize with him and comfort him. 

When they saw him from a distance, they could hardly recognize him; they began to weep aloud, and they tore their robes and sprinkled dust on their heads. Then they sat on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights. No one said a word to him, because they saw how great his suffering was.

After this, Job opened his mouth and cursed the day of his birth. He said:

“May the day of my birth perish,
    and the night that said, ‘A boy is conceived!’
That day—may it turn to darkness;
    may God above not care about it;
    may no light shine on it.
May gloom and utter darkness claim it once more;
    may a cloud settle over it;
    may blackness overwhelm it.
That night—may thick darkness seize it;
    may it not be included among the days of the year
    nor be entered in any of the months.
May that night be barren;
    may no shout of joy be heard in it.
May those who curse days curse that day,
    those who are ready to rouse Leviathan.
May its morning stars become dark;
    may it wait for daylight in vain
    and not see the first rays of dawn,
for it did not shut the doors of the womb on me
    to hide trouble from my eyes.

“Why did I not perish at birth,
    and die as I came from the womb?
Why were there knees to receive me
    and breasts that I might be nursed?
For now I would be lying down in peace;
    I would be asleep and at rest
with kings and rulers of the earth,
    who built for themselves places now lying in ruins,
with princes who had gold,
    who filled their houses with silver.
Or why was I not hidden away in the ground like a stillborn child,
    like an infant who never saw the light of day?
There the wicked cease from turmoil,
    and there the weary are at rest.
Captives also enjoy their ease;
    they no longer hear the slave driver’s shout.
The small and the great are there,
    and the slaves are freed from their owners.

“Why is light given to those in misery,
    and life to the bitter of soul,
to those who long for death that does not come,
    who search for it more than for hidden treasure,
who are filled with gladness
    and rejoice when they reach the grave?
Why is life given to a man
    whose way is hidden,
    whom God has hedged in?
For sighing has become my daily food;
    my groans pour out like water.
What I feared has come upon me;
    what I dreaded has happened to me.
I have no peace, no quietness;
    I have no rest, but only turmoil.” (New International Version)

Job and His Friends, by Ilya Repin, 1869

By anyone’s definition of trouble, the biblical character of Job was in a world of it. Through a series of terrible calamities in which he lost all his children and his earthly possessions, Job was sitting in misery with painful sores on his body from head to toe.

We as readers of Job’s story, have been informed of the behind the scenes discussion between God and Satan. Out of that conversation, Satan was allowed to do anything to Job except outright kill him. (Job 1:1-12)

Job and his “friends,” however, were not privy to any of that insider information. All they knew was the bald reality concerning Job’s loss of family, property, and health. When the friends heard of the tragedies, they came to visit him. And upon seeing Job, they barely recognized him, devastated from the harsh circumstances of his experiences.

What would you do if you were Job? I’ve seen people give up on life altogether, having gone through a lot less than Job. What would you do if you were the friends? I’ve known people that didn’t even have their friends show up, at all, when they went through extreme difficulties.

Sometimes I feel as if I’m in the business of being a chaplain to the Job’s of this world. I consider myself a creative guy, but the experiences and stories from some of the patients I’ve seen, I don’t think I could ever have imagined. There are hardships some folks have lived through that have no words. “Trauma” is an understatement for them.

That was the spiritual and emotional territory for Job. Yet, he held fast to his commitment toward God. But that didn’t mean Job was going to keep quiet and be passive before God or anyone else.

Job was in such a holistic state of misery that he wished he were never born. Both body and soul were hurting beyond hurt.

It is laughable to me to consider that Job would have ever said anything like, “Well, there are others who have it worse than me!” “I could be more thankful for what I have!” “My wife is alive. I need to be strong for her.” And yet, people in awful situations tell themselves things like this every day.

Then, there are the friends. Within the biblical Book of Job, they are actually at their best in the beginning of the story. That is, they are quiet and don’t say a thing. Later, when they open their mouths, we get them saying shortsighted and ignorant things.

In our quest to make sense of unwanted and unasked for situations, we try to understand what is going on. But not everything is going to make sense. There is a chunk of life that will forever be nonsense to us. And it isn’t our task in this life to figure everything out – namely because there are some things that are well beyond our ever figuring out.

In saying that, it doesn’t mean that I am a nihilist. If you perhaps think that, then maybe you have an inordinate need to know all things and how they work.

Instead, I am pointing out something that may seem simple, in the midst of people’s lives that are incredibly complex with all sorts of strange permutations to them:

  1. If you have been through something life-changing, you need to tell your story to someone. To connect with another person who cares about what you are going through is vital. You cannot live without it.
  2. If your friend has been through something life-changing, you need to listen to their story, without immediate comment or thinking about how to respond. Your caring affect and demeanor is what just may save their life.

This is actually difficult work. Stories can be hard, because life can be hard. Listening is hard, because it hurts to hear another’s pain.

But it is more necessary than you could ever imagine.

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.

Tuesday of Holy Week (Psalm 71:1-14)

Station 3 of the Stations of the Cross, along the Via Dolorosa in Jerusalem

In you, O Lord, I take refuge;
    let me never be put to shame.
In your righteousness deliver me and rescue me;
    incline your ear to me and save me.
Be to me a rock of refuge,
    a strong fortress to save me,
    for you are my rock and my fortress.

Rescue me, O my God, from the hand of the wicked,
    from the grasp of the unjust and cruel.
For you, O Lord, are my hope,
    my trust, O Lord, from my youth.
From my birth I have leaned upon you,
    my protector since my mother’s womb.
My praise is continually of you.

I have been like a portent to many,
    but you are my strong refuge.
My mouth is filled with your praise
    and with your glory all day long.
Do not cast me off in the time of old age;
    do not forsake me when my strength is spent.
For my enemies speak concerning me,
    and those who watch for my life consult together.
They say, “Pursue and seize that person
    whom God has forsaken,
    for there is no one to deliver.”

O God do not be far from me;
    O my God, make haste to help me!
Let my accusers be put to shame and consumed;
    let those who seek to hurt me
    be covered with scorn and disgrace.
But I will hope continually
    and will praise you yet more and more. (New Revised Standard Version)

Christians take a decided interpretation of seeing Christ in the psalms. For us, we can envision Jesus saying these words of lament in the last days of his earthly life and ministry.

Why lament?

Lament is a significant piece of Lent, and is especially present in these final days of the season, Holy Week. To lament is to offer a public and passionate expression of grief. And it’s not optional but necessary and vital to the Christian experience, not to mention the human condition.

Without lamenting our great losses, our grief comes out sideways, inevitably harming others with our snarky vitriol. Lament gives expression to our deep grief. It enables us to come to grips with what has happened in the past, or happening to us in the present, and within us.

What does it mean to lament?

  • A lament is an expression of personal grief, due to any significant change or loss; it is the normal emotional, spiritual, physical, and relational reaction to that loss.
  • Lamenting is an intentional process of letting go. Relationships, dreams, plans, and people all die. We cannot get them back. Lament helps us find and live into a new identity after the loss or change.
  • Expressing grief through lament is intensely personal; there is no one-size-fits-all. No one else can do our lamentation for us.

How do I lament?

There are many psalms of lament, including our psalm lesson for today. They all have a typical structure to them, including:

  • Addressing God: Crying out for help. Some psalms of lament expand to include a statement of praise or a recollection of God’s intervention in the past. (Psalm 71:1-3)
  • Complaint: Telling God (said with some flavor!) about our problem or experience through a range and depth of emotional, relational, and spiritual reactions to the change or loss. (Psalm 71:4)
  • Confession of Trust: Remaining confident in God despite the circumstances. Beginning to see problems differently. (Psalm 71:5-8)
  • Petition: Proclaiming confidence in God. Appealing to God for deliverance and intervention. Keep in mind that petitioning is not bargaining with God or a refusal to accept loss. Rather, it is a legitimate seeking of help. (Psalm 71:9-13)
  • Words of Assurance: Expressing certainty that the petition will be heard by God. (Psalm 71:14a)
  • Vow of Praise: Vowing to testify in the future to what God will do with praise. (Psalm 71:14b-24)

I encourage and urge you to consider the following spiritual practice in this Holy Week: Set aside some time and craft your own psalm of lament.

Choose an event from your past which created grief for you. It can be recent or from years ago. Using the structure of lament psalms, thoughtfully write out each element as I have outlined it. Then, read it aloud to God. Perhaps even take another step by reading your lament aloud to a trusted family member, friend, or faith leader.

Our grief needs the outlet of lament. Grief which is not expressed ends up sitting heavily in the soul. Eventually, over time, if not acknowledged and spoken aloud, it can easily become putrid and rancid, poisoning our spirit, and compromising our faith.

Sharing your story through lament is biblical, practical, and I insist, necessary. I regularly craft psalms of lament whenever I have events or people who keep sticking with me in my thoughts and in my heart. Here is one example from a few years ago, after a mass shooting in my city:

Lord, in our shock and confusion, we come before you.

In our grief and despair, in the midst of hate,

in our sense of helplessness in the face of violence,

we lean on you. How long, O Lord, must we keep facing this!?

For the families of those who have been killed, we pray.

For the family of the shooter—help us to pray, Lord.

For the communities that have lost members—their anger, grief, fear—we pray.

For the churches striving to be your light in darkness, beyond our comprehension, we pray.

In the face of hatred, may we claim love, Lord.

May we love those far off and those near.

May we love those who are strangers and those who are friends.

May we love those who we agree with and understand,

and even more so, Lord, those who we consider to be our enemies.

Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.

Heal our sin-sick souls, and grant us your peace.

Make these wounds whole, Lord, for you can do it. Amen.

How Can I Move Through My Grief? (Lamentations 1:7-15)

The Lamentations of Jeremiah by Marc Chagall (1887-1985)

Her people recall the good life
    that once was theirs;
now they suffer
    and are scattered.
No one was there to protect them
from their enemies who sneered
    when their city was taken.

Jerusalem’s horrible sins
    have made the city a joke.
Those who once admired her
    now hate her instead—
she has been disgraced;
    she groans and turns away.

Her sins had made her filthy,
but she wasn’t worried
    about what could happen.
And when Jerusalem fell,
    it was so tragic.
No one gave her comfort
    when she cried out,
“Help! I’m in trouble, Lord!
    The enemy has won.”

Zion’s treasures were stolen.
Jerusalem saw foreigners
    enter her place of worship,
though the Lord
had forbidden them
    to belong to his people.

Everyone in the city groans
    while searching for food;
they trade their valuables
for barely enough scraps
    to stay alive.

Jerusalem shouts to the Lord,
“Please look and see
    how miserable I am!”
No passerby even cares.
Why doesn’t someone notice
    my terrible sufferings?
You were fiercely angry, Lord,
and you punished me
    worst of all.
From heaven you sent a fire
    that burned in my bones;
you set a trap for my feet
    and made me turn back.
All day long you leave me
    in shock from constant pain.
You have tied my sins
    around my neck,
and they weigh so heavily
    that my strength is gone.
You have put me in the power
    of enemies too strong for me.

You, Lord, have turned back
my warriors and crushed
    my young heroes.
Judah was a woman untouched,
but you let her be trampled
    like grapes in a wine pit. (Contemporary English Version)

“The darker the night, the brighter the stars. The deeper the grief, the closer is God.”

Fyodor Dostoevsky

The only way to the mountain is through the valley. The only way to make the pain go away is to move through it – not by avoiding it, pretending it’s not there, or trying to move around it. Pain and suffering are inevitable; misery is optional.

The reality is that, when experiencing catastrophic loss, you and I will grieve forever. We shall never “get over” it; we only learn to live with it.

Yes, I do believe there is spiritual and emotional healing. Significant change and grinding loss doesn’t need to define who we are. We can rebuild ourselves around the loss we have suffered.

Yes, you and I will be whole again. However, we shall never ever be the same again. It isn’t possible – nor should it be.

The prophet Jeremiah, the exiles in Babylon, and the remaining people of Jerusalem faced a tremendous and heartbreaking adjustment to a new world full of changes and losses. Expressing that grief was central to not becoming stuck in the past, living in the here and now, and moving into the future.

Grief is the normal mental, emotional, spiritual, and/or physical response to any significant change or loss. Grief is not optional but necessary. It is our personhood’s way of facing the pain and moving through it to a place of finding renewed meaning, support, and purpose in life.

How do people move through the grief?

  • Community: Grief needs a witness. It must be expressed. We must tell our stories of life, love, and loss. Otherwise, the grief just sits unmoved deep within and eventually becomes gangrene of the soul.

Help carry each other’s burdens. In this way you will follow Christ’s teachings.

Galatians 6:2, GW
  • Connection: Grief doesn’t so much go away as it morphs into fond memories of remembrance through ritual behavior.

Then Jesus took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks he broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” (Luke 22:19, NRSV)

  • Character: No one is defined by their grief, their disease, their mental disorder, their disability, or their addiction. In many religious traditions, people are identified as carrying the image and likeness of G-d.

God knew what he was doing from the very beginning. He decided from the outset to shape the lives of those who love him along the same lines as the life of his Son. The Son stands first in the line of humanity he restored. We see the original and intended shape of our lives there in him.

After God made that decision of what his children should be like, he followed it up by calling people by name. After he called them by name, he set them on a solid basis with himself. And then, after getting them established, he stayed with them to the end, gloriously completing what he had begun. (Romans 8:29-30, MSG)

  • Care: Practice caring for yourself. Give yourself the grace and the permission to be happy… or sad… or angry – to feel what you need to feel. Treat yourself like you would treat your best friend.

Jesus said, “Come to me, all you who are struggling hard and carrying heavy loads, and I will give you rest. Put on my yoke and learn from me. I’m gentle and humble. And you will find rest for yourselves. My yoke is easy to bear, and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30, CEB)

  • Compare not: Please do not compare your grief and loss with anyone else’s. The truth is this: The absolute worst loss is your loss, not somebody else’s.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. (Psalm 34:18, NIV)

  • Count: Count your wins. Count your blessings. Say them out loud. Write them down. Share them with a friend or loved one.

Bless the Lord, O my soul,

    and forget not all his benefits,

who forgives all your iniquity,

    who heals all your diseases,

who redeems your life from the pit,

    who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy. (Psalm 103:2-4, ESV)

Sometimes, prayer is the only possible way forward. Maybe the Lord will once again hear us and respond, as of old:

“I have surely seen the affliction of my people… I have heard their cry… for I know their sorrows.” (Exodus 3:7, NET)

May the presence of the Lord melt your fear and discouragement. May God strengthen and help you. May the Lord lift you and hold you in gracious and compassionate hands. Amen.