Trinity Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)

Sermons 

Title: "Without Question" 

Text: Job 38:1-7, (34-41)

"There was once a man in the land of Uz whose name was Job. That man was blameless and upright, one who feared God and turned away from evil" (Job 1:1).

Thus begins the story of Job, a man who lived in mythical times, in the period of patriarchs like Noah and Abraham. Job lived in the land of Uz, whose location reminds me of another mythical place "somewhere over the rainbow."

Portrayed as "blameless," Job was an innocent cast into troubles not of his own making. Unknown to Job, he had a foe – one called Satan, or "The Accuser" in ancient Hebrew, a "heavenly being" who had the ear of the Lord. One day, this "heavenly being" – what a misnomer that was!" – decided to put God to the test, not directly of course, but by testing the faithfulness of the "blameless and upright man" called Job.

The consequences for Job were disastrous. For no reasons that he or his friends could comprehend, Job suddenly found himself without his family and without his possessions. As if that were not enough, The Lord permitted "the Accuser" to inflict on Job "loathsome sores from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head" (Job 2:7). But Job remained steadfast, saying "Shall we receive the good at the hand of God, and not receive the bad?" (Job 2:10).

Soon, three of Job’s three friends – Eliphaz the Temanite; Bildad the Shuhite; and Zophar the Naamathite – heard about Job’s misfortunes. They came to be with him. Together, they "sat with him on the ground seven days and seven nights, and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his suffering was very great" (Job 2:11, 13).

Finally, after a week of suffering in silence, Job spoke up, cursing the day he was born. In accord with ancient beliefs about cause-and-effect, Eliphaz said that Job must have sinned to be suffering so much. Bildad declared that Job should repent of his sins. And, finally, Zophar argued that God is lenient. None of the good advice of these three friends consoled Job in his suffering. Still depressed and despondent, Job cried out to the Lord. He prayed,

Only grant two things to me, then I will not hide myself from your face; withdraw your hand far from me, and do not let dread of you terrify me. Then call, and I will answer; or let me speak, and you reply to me (13:20-22).

But his friends were not finished with Job. First Eliphaz and then Bildad continued to argue against Job. Then Zophar chimed in, declaring that wickedness should receive retribution. In reply, Job wisely observed that the wicked often go unpunished, declaring: "Why do the wicked live on, reach old age, and grow mighty in power?" (21:7).

A third round of debate ensued, with first Eliphaz and then Bildad taking up the argument against Job. In due course, Job challenged God in a long monologue that occupies all of chapter 31.

At that point, the story introduces a new person – one known as Elihu, son of Barachel the Buzite, of the family of Ram. This Elihu was younger than the other three of Job’s friends, so he had maintained a respectful silence while they argued with Job. But now he spoke up, when they failed to answer Job’s last tirade.

In a lengthy discourse, running from the beginning of chapter 32 through chapter 37, Elihu rebuked Job, proclaimed God’s justice, condemned self-righteousness, exalted God’s goodness, and proclaimed God’s majesty. His words must have struck Job dumb; for the first time, Job has no reply.

But those who listened to the story up to this point surely were buzzing with opinions. So, permit me to offer a perspective on what we have heard so far in the first 37 chapters of Job, the section of the Book of Job that precedes today’s lectionary reading.

I’m sure that many of you have read rabbi Harold Kushner’s bestselling book, first published 25 years ago, entitled Why Do Bad Things Happen to Good People?· In his prayer, Job asks the opposite question, "Why do Good Things Happen to Bad People?" In raising this question, Job was one of the first to challenge God on this important issue point of social justice – in effect, insisting that life should be "fair." Modern theologians refer to this human concern for God’s fairness as the problem of theodicy. It boils down to four propositions:

· Job’s Question: Why do good things happen to bad people?

· Kemper’s Corollary to Job’s Question: Why do bad things not happen to bad people?

· Kushner’s Question: Why do bad things happen to good people?·

· Kemper’s Corollary to Kushner’s Question: Why do good things not happen to good people?

We can understand the struggle of Job and his friends to come to grips with his situation by evaluating their conversations in light of these four propositions. As human beings, we strive to understand who we are, who others are, and how does God relate to all of us. We learn to know "right" from "wrong" and "good" from "evil." And we expect no less from God.

Now, back to the Book of Job, where our lectionary reading begins at the beginning of chapter 38. Suddenly, the Lord enters the conversation, challenging Job out of a whirlwind, saying "Gird up your loins like a man, I will question you, and you shall declare to me" (Job 38:3).

Here Job is assaulted by God with an unending series of rhetorical questions, booming out of the whirlwind one right after another. I ask that you listen to all of these questions. Soon, you will realize that there are only four possible answers to the questions. Depending on how the question was framed, the only possible answers would be: "Nowhere," "I don’t know," "Only you," and "No, Lord." Listen to the inquisition:

Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?

Who determined its measurements?

Who stretched the line upon it?

On what were its bases sunk?

Who laid its cornerstone?

Who shut in the sea with doors?

Have you commanded the morning . . . and caused the dawn to know its place?

Have you entered into the springs of the sea?

Have you walked in the recesses of the deep?

Have the gates of death been revealed to you?

Have you seen the gates of deep darkness?

Have you comprehended the expanse of the earth?

Where is the way to the dwelling of light?

Where is the place of darkness?

Have you entered the storehouses of the snow?

Have you seen the storehouses of the hail?

What is the way to the place where the light is distributed or the east wind is scattered upon the earth?

Who has cut a channel for the torrents of rain . . .?

Has the rain a father?

Who has begotten the drops of dew?

From whose womb did the ice come forth?

Who has given birth to the hoarfrost of heaven?

Can you bind the chains of the Pleiades or loose the cords of Orion?

Can you lead forth the Mazzaroth in their season?

Can you guide the Bear with its children?

Do you know the ordinances of the heavens?

Can you establish their rule on the earth?

Can you lift up your voice to the clouds?

Can you send forth lightnings?

Who has put wisdom in the inward parts or given understanding to the mind?

Who has the wisdom to number the clouds?

Who can tilt the waterskins of the heavens?

Can you hunt the prey for the lion, or satisfy the appetite of the young lions?

Who provides for the raven its prey?

Can you imagine, standing there before the whirlwind, being bombarded by such a lengthy series of impossible questions? And – believe it or not – this wasn’t the end! The questions continue unabated through chapter 39, finally finishing in the first verse of chapter 40, with a final question and a command, when the Lord said to Job: "Shall a faultfinder contend with the Almighty? Anyone who argues with God must respond" (Job 40:1-2).

What was the point of so many questions? Surely, these questions were not intended to make Job feel better in the midst of his loss and his suffering. Their obvious purpose was to put Job in his place. But, what place was that? Wasn’t he a good person to whom bad things happened? What evil had he committed to deserve his present circumstances? Surely, Job must have been pondering all of this as he sat there, taking in the deluge of God’s rhetorical questions. Finally, Job said to the Lord, "See, I am of small account; what shall I answer you? I lay my hand on my mouth. I have spoken once, and I will not answer; twice, but will proceed no further" (Job 40:3-5).

But God was not willing to let Job off with such a non-reply. Once more (cf. Job 38:1), "The Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind: ‘Gird up your loins like a man; I will question you, and you declare to me" (Job 40:6-7). And then God threw another 26 questions at Job!

After bearing all of these questions, Job answered the Lord, but with a difference:

I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted. . . . I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know. . . . I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you (Job 42:2-6).

After all this, chapter after chapter of suffering and dozens upon dozens of impossible questions, the scene suddenly shifts. The Lord’s wrath is kindled against Eliphaz the Temanite and the others for what they have said – and failed to say – in their conversations with Job. The Lord required that they take seven bulls and seven rams, and go Job, and offer up a burnt offering. And, the Lord proclaimed to them that "my servant Job shall pray for you, for I will accept his prayer" (Job 42:8).

Immediately thereafter, without a word from the Accuser called Satan, the Lord restored the fortunes of Job and gave Job twice as much as he had before. And Job prospered for all the rest of his days, until he died, old and full of days.

And everyone lived happily ever after. Just the ending that you would have expected from a folk tale, right?

I began this examination of the Book of Job with a passing reference to the classic film "The Wizard of Oz" (1939). Now, let me conclude this sermon by returning to this comparison.

For me, the most revealing scene in The Wizard of Oz took place near the end of the film. Do you remember when Dorothy Gale (yes, that was her family name!), in her ruby slippers, and accompanied by her three companions – The Tin Man, The Scarecrow, and the Lion – stood quaking before the Wizard of Oz. Then, much to their surprise (and to the surprise of the audience), Dorothy’s dog Toto pulled back the curtain on the little man who was projecting his voice through the great machine that made him seem to be an all-powerful Wizard.

Hiding behind the curtain, shouting questions and commands at innocent and humble folks, the character of Professor Marvel reminds me of the God in the whirlwind in the Book of Job. Dorothy’s initial fear of the Wizard was no less real than Job’s long-standing fear of God. But, in the end, Dorothy saw through Professor Marvel’s smoke and mirrors, just as Job saw God through the whirlwind. In both cases, the audience also discovers an unexpected perspective on power – and its misappropriation. Suffering and fear are the dark side of power; sharing and trusting are on the side of righteousness.

Seen in this light, the God of the Book of Job comes off as a game player willing to treat Job and his family as mere "tokens" in the Game of Life. Apparently without compassion and without love, God brought suffering unbidden into Job’s life. In this way, the God of Uz behaved very much like the Wizard of Oz.

In the end, the bluster of the Great Wizard of Oz was transformed into a friendly wind that helped Dorothy to return to her home in Kansas. And, in the end, the God of the Book of Job showed that the Game of Life could be replayed, with restoration and restitution finally triumphant. Job regained his family, his possessions, and more. Ultimately, Job was restored and the God of Uz once more became the God of Justice -- without question.

Amen.