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 those who curse days curse that day...” Job 3:1-4, 8
You know those times when
you are having a completely unimportant chat with someone, and somehow it takes
on quite a serious, even solemn, note?
It happened to me once with
a friend I’ll call Ellen. A lovely Christian, Ellen has had a hard, painful
life. Our chat began to touch on this, and I think I must have said something
like, “Well, we have to thank God for the good things - when all is said and
done there’s a lot in life to be thankful for.” Her reply left me rather lost
for words: “Yes, I suppose so. But I must admit that I would have
preferred never to have been born.”
I didn’t know what to say.
At one level her remark seemed almost blasphemous: if life is a gift of God,
how could it possibly be right to say that you’d prefer never to have had it?
(It occurred to me later, of course, that if you had never had it, then there
wouldn’t be a “you” to know that you hadn’t had it. But I decided not to follow
that line of thought...) Her words were spoken without any bitterness or anger;
they were just a plain statement of fact. I couldn’t possibly have judged or
criticised her.
And then I thought of Job -
like Ellen a godly and greatly respected person.
Job 3 must surely rank as
one of the oddest passages in the Bible.
In his terrible suffering,
Job calls down bitter curses on “the day of his birth”. Which seems, surely,
slightly crazy - how can you curse a day that
is long gone? How can such a day perish?
How can you wish a day ill in the way Job does in verses 2-9? Indeed, there is
a moment here which seems, to me at least, almost comical: “May those who curse
days curse that day” (verse 8) - as if there are people around, along with bus-drivers,
teachers and office-workers, whose role in life is “cursing days”!
Well, of course, it’s all very
emotional, poetic language: we may find fault with Job’s logic, but I think we
know very well what he means! And it certainly puts Ellen’s mild,
matter-of-fact remark into perspective.
If ever there was a Bible
book that demands to be read right to the end, surely it must be Job. And
though it can be quite a difficult read at times, I think we must thank God
that this strange book has found its way into scripture.
Two key questions arise in
my mind regarding Job.
First, how does he
confront his miserable, wretched suffering?
The answer that must spring
to the mind of anyone who knows their Bible at all is: with massive
patience. James the brother of Jesus (in James
5:11) speaks of Job’s “endurance” (NIV) or his “staying power” (The
Message). And that must surely be right. Sheer stickability is a precious thing. Do you have it? - do I?
But there is another vital
thing about Job that he deserves recognition for: his extraordinary honesty. Job can’t understand why what is happening to him
is happening - and he decides to say so, loud and clear. He refuses to swallow
the shallow, trite explanations of his so-called comforters. And he is even
prepared to stand up to God himself, so to speak - take a look, for example, at
13:20-27.
It is, certainly, right for human
beings to be respectful and humble in the presence of God. Of course. But Job
teaches us that God respects us when we are totally honest with him; he has no
time for platitudes, clichés and truisms. Is this a lesson some of us need to
learn?
The second question is: How
does Job’s story end?
And the answer, of course,
is: in triumph and joy. This is why I
said we absolutely must read the book right through.
I don’t imagine for one
minute that all the catastrophes of Job’s earlier life were simply blotted out
of his memory by the time we get to chapter 42; where there have been wounds
there must, after all, be scars. But the fact is that “The Lord blessed the
latter part of Job’s life more than the former part” (42:12). He ends up with
massive prestige and stupendous wealth (not to mention three fabulously beautiful
daughters).
I would sum up the great
truth of this book like this: there is no such thing as a child of God
whose story doesn’t have a happy ending.
Yes, God “will wipe away every tear from their eyes” (Revelation
21:4) - yours, mine - and Ellen’s too, of course.
Father God, I think
of all those who feel today as Job felt so long ago. Give me, please, eyes to see,
a heart to feel, and hands to help them in their troubles. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment