Job CXXIII

 We want emancipation while still enjoying all the benefits of sonship. We want all the perks with none of the responsibilities inherent to being a son or daughter of God. We want to be able to run to Him when things get hard and insist that He remedy our situation, but unless we have a problem that needs fixing unless we have a need that must be met, we prefer that He keep to Himself and not bother us with such abstract notions as relationship or fellowship.

We want to be used by God in the manner we see fit, and if any duty seems beneath us, we want the option to pass on it and ask for something more. We want spiritual growth without sacrifice; we want revelation without commitment; we want to boast of titles we’ve assigned to ourselves while neglecting to point to Jesus as our all in all. We don’t want to share the stage. We don’t want to share the spotlight, not realizing that in and of ourselves, we are nothing, a bag of skin and bones deteriorating daily and inching ever onward toward the grave.

We relish seeing ourselves as the authority with none above us to whom we must give account, and if perchance someone points to the Word and attempts to correct us, we retreat to the well-worn defense of our feelings and how they somehow matter more than what Scripture says.

We reject the one true cure for the disease that is killing us, and that is daily crucifying the flesh because although we would only admit it to ourselves in the sincerest of moments, we prioritize our flesh over our spiritual man more often than not.

We will cling to any man who offers us an alternative to sanctification and demonize those who insist upon it, creating ever more fanciful narratives in our minds as to why those preaching the gospel are cruel and unloving because they insist upon the standard that Christ set forth. Then, when our lives turn to ruin, and every fantasy to which we held so dear dissipates like fog in the morning sun, we blame God, shake our fists to the heavens, and insist that He has somehow failed us and not we who have deceived ourselves. How could I have deceived myself when I am beyond deception, says the fool in his heart.

The difference between Job’s mindset and many in the contemporary church is that while Job did his due diligence, searched his heart, weighed his actions, and concluded that as far as he knew, he was blameless, yet acknowledged that he did not know himself, many today do not feel the need for either introspection or self-assessment. There is no striving to enter through the narrow gate, nor is there a desire to present their bodies as holy and acceptable to God, which is their reasonable service. Remembering introspection is a key part of our spiritual growth, and understanding of our relationship with God is crucial.

It seems paradoxical at first glance: “Though I were righteous, my own mouth would condemn me; though I were blameless, it would prove me perverse. I am blameless, yet I do not know myself.”

Job understood what Scripture would later reveal to us all: that we cannot stand in our own righteousness before a holy God and expect it to suffice. Was Job blameless? Yes, he was because God declared him to be so, yet Job could not, and would not, use his uprightness as a defense for why his suffering was undeserved.

The more Job speaks, the more we understand the depth of his wisdom and understanding of things no man without a true and longstanding relationship with God could have gleaned. Even in his grief, he hit upon some of the most profound and existential truths humanity has been grappling with for millennia, none more profound than the need for a mediator between man and God.

In his attempt to make two people involved in a conflict come to an agreement and resolution, a mediator must understand both sides and be privy to all the requisite information. Since He was fully human and fully God, Jesus is the only one in a position to qualify as the mediator between man and God, having walked the earth for thirty-three years, understanding the frailty of man, being able to sympathize with our weaknesses, having been tempted as we are in all points, yet remaining without sin.

If ever the thought that God doesn’t understand you has crossed your mind, it was a foolish thought. He understands you better than you understand yourself, and all that He allows in your life, whether you deem it a benefit or a detriment in the moment, is done so with the preeminent purpose of growing you, purifying you, pruning you, and transforming you into an image more akin to His Son.

A toddler may not understand why their mother says no when he reaches into the candy dish for the tenth time, but the mother does, and only after the toddler is fully grown and has averted diabetes due to his mother’s insistence that their diet should not consist solely of colorful candies do they come to appreciate the discipline and denial of their wants.

When God says no to something, it’s not because He’s being unloving or doesn’t want us to enjoy life but because He is sparing us from pain, hopelessness, and torment. Those who have gone and done what God commanded them not to do because they thought they knew better can attest that it never turned out the way they thought it would. Sooner or later, the reason why God said no to something becomes evident, but by then, for those who chose to disobey, it is too late.

Whether standing behind the pulpit or sitting in the last pew of the church, whether your wall is brimming with doctorates or you’ve just started reading the Bible for the first time, you must approach every day with the knowledge and assurance that God knows best. In every situation, in every circumstance, in every trial, in every setback, in every closed door, God knows best. Trusting in His wisdom should bring you ever-present reassurance in your faith journey.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.