Job LXXXI

 Even though he started out in a conciliatory fashion, Eliphaz’s tone quickly shifted, and though the question wasn’t asked outright, the subtext was clear: What did you do? It had to have been something grievous. It had to have been something so horrendous as to stir the anger of God Himself. Remember now, who ever perished being innocent? Ergo, you cannot be innocent since you are perishing!

Since the upright is never cut off, and you have been, is it perhaps because you were no longer upright? These were not words spoken in haste. Eliphaz had seven days of silence to work through his thought process, and because he’d never seen someone in such torment without being able to point to their lack of uprightness, he assumed it was the case with Job.

It’s one thing for someone to realize that their sin has brought them to a low place and robbed them of their health, their peace, and their joy. It’s another thing entirely to know you’ve remained blameless and unspotted by sin and yet endure the things Job was enduring. If not for absolute trust in the sovereignty of God, no man could withstand what Job was going through, including Job.

That we serve a good God must be a fundamental truth we not only acknowledge but embrace and allow to take root in the depth of our hearts. The assurance of His goodness and faithfulness, the unshakeable belief that whatever it is we are going through is working a good thing in us, must be the ever-present reality we reside in. God isn’t good just some of the time, or when He pours out blessings upon us, but is so even in the season of trial and purification. God never ceases to be good. It is a constant. He never ceases to be loving. It is His nature.

If the theory that our perception of a thing shapes its reality holds true, then how we see the trials of life goes a long way toward shaping how we react to them.  

Both Job’s integrity and reverence for God were such that had he known himself to have sinned, he would have repented and humbled himself in the sight of the Lord. He feared God and shunned evil. He knew God well enough to know that a bruised reed He would not break.

Do I believe Job’s friends were trying to dispirit him? No, they’d invested too much time and put in too much effort to have done it with nefarious intent, but they had yet to encounter someone whose situation and circumstance did not directly correlate to their actions. This was a new experience for them, and in their attempt to puzzle it out, their conclusion was that Job had sinned, and so incurred the wrath of God.

When someone is struggling, even an innocuous, seemingly innocent remark can cause ripples in their heart because they perceive every experience through the prism of their pain and hardship. In their suffering, they become hyper-sensitive and hyper-aware of every word spoken and every action undertaken by those around them. It’s not intentional, at least in most cases it isn’t; it’s the natural reaction of one who has been beaten down into the dust, wondering where the next blow is coming from.

Granted, there are those who revel in victimhood nowadays, who perceive everything in the worst possible light, and attempt to find threads to pull at, whether real or imaginary, but this was not the case with Job, especially given the cultural environment his story transpired in.

It’s the easiest thing in the world to get polemical when we encounter someone who is struggling, being tested, tried, and going through a season of refining. Not only does it make some people feel spiritually superior, but it also justifies their unwillingness to reach into the dust and pull someone out of their pain. It takes more effort to pull someone to their feet and let them lean on you, dirty, broken, and disheveled as they may be, than it does to kick someone when they’re down.

Every time we open our mouths and speak, we make the conscious choice of using a cleaver or a scalpel. Even when correction is valid and warranted, the way in which we deliver it can make the difference between whether one receives it or rejects it altogether. In some instances, all that is required is a salve and some bandages because the wounds are grievous, and making fresh cuts is unwarranted and needlessly cruel.

Be wise in weighing your words because death and life are in the power of the tongue. I’ve seen seemingly well-meaning people do the devil’s job for him once too often to brush off the importance of the words we speak to those who are hurting. I’ve seen what little remained of the light in people’s eyes go out entirely because rather than be comforted in their grief or offered a semblance of hope in their despair, the individual in question chose to pour salt on the wound by the words they spoke.

We’ve all been there. We’ve all been eager to give someone a piece of our mind, set them straight, and tell them what we really think about one thing or another, but if our mind is in conflict with God’s purpose, and our thoughts are not in harmony with His thoughts, it is a far better thing to keep silent and allow for the possibility that we only know one side of the story, and as such are unqualified to pass judgment.

At best, we are operating on partial information. All we can go on is what our eyes see, our ears hear, and precedent relating directly to the circumstance the individual in question is dealing with. It’s not that God may know something you don’t; it’s that God surely does. It is a certainty beyond doubt, and using wisdom and humility when dealing with friends, family, brothers, or sisters in Christ who are going through hardship is paramount if our desire is to be a comfort and a voice of reason.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.