Our short little passage
from Job left me a little confused. What is it Job so urgently needs to write
down? Why does he seem to go from wanting them in a book to wanting the words
inscribed in a book? And which words is it anyway? All of these questions remind
me of how little we know about the book of Job. Well—we know the words “the
patience of Job” and we might have some sense that bad things happen to Job. We
might even know that God does these bad things to Job because God is trying to
prove that Job will love God even if things are just terrible in his life.
Some of you might know
that I have a dog named Job. Most people misunderstand the name and assume I
said “Joe.” A few will ask if he has the patience of Job. No. He does not. He
has nothing like the patience of Job. And you know what? Neither did Job. I
want to spend a little time this morning telling you about the Book of Job
because it is pretty different from most other books in the Bible, and it
doesn’t come up all that often in our lectionary, so it provides a teaching
moment here this morning.
Job
is not a book about being patient through bad times. It’s not a book about
patience at all. It is a book in the wisdom tradition written between 4th
and 7th century BCE, and was likely written while the ancient
Israelites were in exile. The book seeks to examine undeserved suffering, and
it hope to both talk about this on an individual basis: why does Job suffer
unduly, but also on a communal basis, why is Israel in exile again? And the
book of Job hopes to discover what God’s role in human suffering is too.
The
setup is that an accuser is talking to God about Job. The accuser suggests that
Job is loyal, pious and good because God has blessed Job. His life is full of
bounty, his herds and cattle are doing well, he has healthy children. The
accuser suggests that if all the blessings were taken away, Job would no longer
be the loyal pious man that he seems to be. So then Job is stricken with
disease, his cattle die off, his children all die. It’s just awful.
The
book then moves into a cycle of dialogues between Job and his friends. Each of
his tree friends insist that the terrible things that are happening must be
divine retribution for something Job has done. They insist that because of the
covenant that their people have with God, Job’s extreme misfortune must be tied
to his actions. Job’s reaction to his friends is to again and again insist upon
his innocence. In the 19th chapter, from which our short passage I
taken, Job is again recounting all of this things that God has done to him
unjustly. He says, “God as put me in the wrong, and closed his net around me. I
call aloud, but there is no justice. He breaks me down on every side, and I am
gone, he has uprooted my hope like a tree.” It is these words, Job’s utter and
complete frustration with God that he wants to write down. Job is so angered by
God, so completely hopeless that he feels just writing them on paper will not
be enough, these feelings should be carved in stone.
Job’s
desire to write out his anger and frustration at the injustice of what he
(rightly) pins on God is shockingly close to Job’s assertion that Job will see
God by his side. Job thinks that it will be after he is already dead. He says,
“ For I know that my Redeemer lives, and that at the last he will stand upon
the earth; and after my skin has been thus destroyed, then in my flesh shall I
see God.” The proximity of the relief Job feels knowing God will be by his
side, (even if it isn’t until after he is dead) with the anger that Job feels
is fascinating. In reflecting on the closeness of these two seemingly hard to
put together feelings and in thinking about the long dialogues that Job has
with God, I have come to the realization that among other things, the Book of
Job encourages and insists upon an active relationship with God which is not
afraid to call out for help, and cry out when life is unjust. The activity that
Job takes is a very dialogical one—Job talks to his friends, he talks to God.
In our struggles here at
St. Ann’s, and I am particularly thinking about the big tower and organ fund,
we need 30 million dollars to really fix this church up right, I have heard a
few people say, “well—we’ve got to rely on God to provide.” And while it is
good and right to acknowledge our dependence on God and remember that all
things come from God, this does not mean that we don’t have responsibilities
too. What if relying on God to provide means that we as a community do some
serious fundraising. We would be relying on God to provide the strength we
might need to undertake a big project. But we shouldn’t rely on God in a
passive way, waiting for a check to materialize from thin air. Our reliance on
God is in the love we get from God, in the encouragement we get from God
In Rosanne’s
letter to St. Ann & the Holy Trinity I am reminded of the active role we
are playing as a congregation in our outreach efforts. Our work of making
sandwiches shows me that we understand we are in relationship with people
throughout our borough and that we are connected by God. God helps us to be
able to take on big challenges. How do we help when there is so much to do? How
can we connect to the needs of those who need help the most? God gives us the
strength to be more and more active participants in our city, and to cry out
for justice when we see fit. I don’t think we have yet felt Job’s frustration
so much so that we want to carve into stone.
Another
demonstration of our active role in our relationship with God is our commitment
to support St. Ann & the Holy Trinity financially. Our moth long
stewardship drive is a time to reflect as Vladimir did last week, and Rosanne
has this week on the many gifts that being a part of this community provides
for each of us, and for us to offer our support back to the church. Our active
relationship here requires us not only to show up on Sunday mornings and pull
out whatever loose bills are in our wallets, but it asks us to consider how we
give of ourselves, and what amount that giving will look like. It asks us to
consider how we will give our time, will it be as a singer in the choir, or
will we volunteer to bake something for the bake sale this month, how we will
give our talents, how our art or teaching skills might be of use here, and
finally how we will give our treasure especially at a time when the parish has
some particularly difficult years up ahead.
We can do this in the hope that Job shows us:
the hope of having God by our side even while encountering the most
frustrating, unfair circumstances. This is the same hope that Jesus is talking
about in the Gospel this morning too, the hope of the resurrection. We are
people who know that our relationship with God changes how we understand the
physical world. When the Sadducees try to trick Jesus with this question about
the woman with seven husbands—they are of course missing the whole point of the
resurrection and how it will function. They think the rules of this life still
apply. But the special knowledge we have as Christians. We know that God is on
our side, and with God on our side more is possible than we know because the
rules of our physical world no longer apply. Death is defeated in Jesus’ death,
and hope is restored in the hope for the resurrection of the dead to come.
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