People of the Book – Job
One of the most profound books of the entire Bible is that of Job. Its didactic poetry is a reflection on the reality of evil and suffering in the infralapsarian (“after the Fall”) human experience and is largely recognized as a literary masterpiece, even by nonbelievers. It is a reflection on the problem of how a good God can allow evil, called in technical terms “theodicy” (From the Greek theos “God” and dike “justice”). One would seem to think either he is not all-good, and has a mean streak which likes to see us suffer; or he is not all-powerful, since he is obviously too weak to prevent or circumvent the pain we experience. In this framework, logically something has to give. The Book of Job seeks to reflect upon, but perhaps not solve, this conundrum.
The work opens with a fascinating exchange between God and the “adversary” or “accuser,” which is translated into English as Satan. The “blameless and upright” Job fears God and lives righteously, but the adversary claims such faith is easy to understand when God has surrounded him with good things. “But now put forth your hand and touch anything that he has, and surely he will blaspheme you to your face.” The inscrutable will of God, “whose ways our not our ways and whose thoughts are not our thoughts” (Isaiah 55:8), is recognized in his response to Satan’s challenge. God “allows” Satan to test Job in a series of increasingly horrific experiences.
Job’s livelihood is taken away, his 10 children are killed in one fell swoop, he is reduced to poverty and begging. Yet his faith remains steadfast: “Naked I came forth from my mother’s womb and naked shall I go back again. The Lord has given and the Lord has taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.” The celestial prosecutor Satan returns and raises the ante, requesting that God touch Job’s very “bone and his flesh,” and so the good and upright man is covered with painful boils and wracked by illness for years. Yet, he still refuses to criticize God’s will for him.
His friends and wife offer various interpretations of why he is in the condition he is, whether the sufferings he endures are punishment for his sins or those of his parents. Job continues to maintain his innocence, until finally his frustration and desperation overtake him. He curses the day of his own birth, metaphorically placing “God in the dock” of the defendant, and (like so many of us) parading his ills before the jury box and demanding that God justify his actions to us.
God’s answer to Job is simply breathtaking in its magnificence and should be read by every philosophically-minded person during his or her lifetime, for it speaks to the depths of what it means to question the frailty of the world around us, our neighbors, and ourselves. God explodes “out of the whirlwind” and rhetorically asks on what authority Job questions the will of the Almighty.
“Who is this that obscures the divine plans with words of ignorance? Were you there when I laid the foundations of the earth? … Will we have arguing with the All-Powerful One by the critic? Let him who would correct God give the answer.… Would you refuse to acknowledge my right? Would you condemn me that you may be justified?”
The answer, which goes on for chapters, traces God’s power over nature, the cosmos, and human existence. Job is understandably awestruck by God’s response; he disowns his criticisms and repents in dust and ashes, recognizing God’s authority to guide our lives and the entire universe as he sees fit. Job is then eventually rewarded, both materially and spiritually, for his fidelity.
As the philosophers have noted, God at his most intimate core is Being, Goodness, Fidelity, Trustworthiness and Love itself. And despite the hardships of life, this Ultimate Love continues to providentially steer the ship of the universe. Creation has a steady hand at its rudder, even if we in the tempest sometimes fail to understand or appreciate the One who, as St. Augustine puts it, “is more intimate to us than we are to ourselves.” We, like Job, should recognize God’s plan and unique care for each of us and continue to live out the sentiments of the 19th-century Baptist hymn: “My life goes on in endless song/ above life’s lamentations/ I hear the real, though far-off hymn/ that hails a new creation./ No storm can shake my inmost calm,/ while to that rock I’m clinging./ Since Love is lord of heaven and earth,/ how can I keep from singing?”
Michael M. Canaris of Collingswood is an administrator at Fairfield University’s Center for Faith and Public Life and is on the faculty for the Department of Philosophy, Theology, and Religious Studies at Sacred Heart University.