Two
Rivers Pastoral Charge
Sunday October 20, 2024
Scripture: Job 38:1-7, 34-41
So – after taking a week off for Thanksgiving last weekend, we’re back in the
story of Job this week. If you were with
us two weeks ago, you might remember the beginning of Job’s story, where he
lost his home, his health, and his family in one fell swoop. Job remained silent in his suffering, while
Mrs. Job raged against God, and I suggested that both of these were an equally
valid response to suffering.
We then skipped over the middle section of the book of Job. In that middle section, three so-called friends showed up to offer their condolences to Job. After sitting together in silence for a full week, Job finally opened his mouth, let out a cry, and cursed the day that he was born. What was the point of life, if he was only going to suffer? Friend #1 suggested that Job must have sinned in some way, to have suffered so much. Job replied that he did nothing to deserve such suffering. Friend #2 then suggested that Job should change his ways, to turn away from his wrong-doings. Job replied that if all humans were measured against God’s goodness, all of us would fall short. Then Friend #3 suggested that Job’s guilt deserved whatever punishment he received. And Job replied with a prayer asking for God to stop hiding and be present.
You can see why I have named them “so-called friends.” I think that they were more helpful to Job in that first week of shared silent grief than when they tried to offer justification.
We then go through a couple more rounds of argument back and forth, and a fourth visitor arrived on the scene and preached at Job about God’s goodness and majesty and justice.
We’ve skipped over 35 chapters of this back-and-forth dialogue before we get to the reading we heard today. After 37 chapters, God finally speaks directly to Job, answering him with a voice out of a whirlwind.
We only heard part of chapter 38 today, but God’s reply carries on for all of chapters 38, 39, 40, and 41. Even though I struggle with much of the book of Job, I love these chapters.
God basically puts Job in his place, and reminds him that God is God, and Job is a mere human, definitely not God. It is four chapters of God asking a great long string of rhetorical questions. “Where were you, when I laid the foundations of the earth? Have you commanded the morning since your days began, and have you caused the dawn to know its place? Have you entered the storehouses of the snow, or have you seen the storehouses of the hail? Can you establish the movement of the stars in the heavens? Can you satisfy the hunger of the wild lions? Do you give the horse its might? Is it at your command that the eagle soars up and makes its nest on high?” And on, and on, and on, and on.
At one point, God demands an answer from Job, and Job stammers out a short reply. “See, I am of small account; what shall I answer to you, my God?” God continues their questions, and finally Job is able to formulate a response. “I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted. Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know.”
(And in case you are curious, in the closing chapters of the book, because Job has been able to understand that God is God and he is not, he is experiences a reversal of fortune, twice as much as he had before – wealth, and livestock, and children. And Job lived for 140 years and saw 4 generations of descendants before he died, old and full of days.)
Like I mentioned two weeks ago, Job is a book that wrestles with questions of tragedy. Why do bad things happen to good people? How do we respond when faced with un-understandable tragedy? How do we make meaning out of tragedy and loss? These are questions that are fundamental to the human experience.
And I think that the answer that this book gives us is that they happen for no reason. Bad things just happen. Job’s tragedies didn’t happen because he was a bad person, or because he did something wrong. And likewise, his fortunes were not restored at the end of the story because he was an especially good person, or because he prayed the right prayer. Things just happen.
And to me, the message that I can take away from God’s reply to Job from out of the whirlwind is that God was there all along; God was with Job through the tragedies, even when, in his grief, Job wasn’t able to sense the divine presence.
God is God and we are not. God is the Creator of all that is – of everything that we can see, and of everything that we cannot see. God is the only one who can bring the morning stars together to sing with joy. God not only created the land and the seas and all of the animals and birds and fish; but God also cares for each and every one of them, making sure that the animals have food to eat and water to drink. And if God loves and cares for all of them – even for the sea monster Leviathan who shows up in chapter 41 – then of course God loves and cares for Job. And of course God loves and cares for you.
God loves you – you are a part of God’s beloved creation, alongside the stars and the lions and the horses and the eagles. God cares for you and for what you are going through in your life. And just like God was with Job through all of his suffering, God is with you whenever you are suffering, even when pain and grief don’t allow you to perceive that divine presence. There is absolutely nothing that could ever make God abandon you; or that could ever make God stop loving you. Just as Job was precious to God, you too are precious to God.
I want to end today with the poem that is printed on the back of the bulletin, written by pastor, poet, and hymn-writer Steve Garnaas-Holmes. This one is simply entitled “Job.”
Last night I woke from a dream of doom
fearing for the future of the world,
mummy-wrapped in despair, dread burning hot
in my basement. I couldn’t sleep.
When fear for the world overtakes me
I join Job on the ash heap, questioning suffering,
ranting against injustice, suffocating for hope.
And God answers.
Creation is bigger than you,
and greater than your suffering, even greater,
far greater, than all the suffering of the world.
It’s hard to see from your little corner
but the universe is good, and beautiful.
Stars and whales sing of it; your breathing proclaims it.
My grace is in it; my hands are beneath it all,
and you belong to it, even as you are,
though you can never know this mystery,
your part in this wonder and blessing.
My dread is small, even all our death;
God’s goodness is infinite. Praise.
“Lord Answers Job Out of the Whirlwind”
William Blake circa 1805-1806