Job CLXXIII

 What provokes you that you answer? Other than calling his friends miserable comforters, the seemingly innocuous question stood out in the text because it’s one we could each ask ourselves over and over again. It’s not a question that felt directed at Eliphaz or his other two friends, exclusive to them and not at all relatable in any other context, but a question that could have been directed at each of us in turn.

In any given situation, what provokes you that you answer? Whether someone is heaping praise upon you or reacts negatively to you, whether they speak well of you or ill of you, what provokes you to answer? Whether you feel you’ve been slighted, wronged, ignored, or maligned, what provokes you to answer? If we could answer that singular question before we open our mouths to speak, if we could be honest with ourselves about ourselves, what motivates us and when, we would be the cause of more smiles and fewer tears as we journey through this life.

Whether it’s the unction of the Holy Spirit, righteous anger, pride, ego, or the flesh, identifying what provokes us to answer in the manner we do will allow for us to know when we should speak and when we should keep silent; when we should give our two cents, or keep them to ourselves and add them to the other hundred dollars in pennies we’ve been collecting.

Not every thought is worth verbalizing, not every opinion is worth disseminating, and when we know the difference between divinely inspired utterances and those produced by the flesh, by ego, by pride, by jealousy, resentment, sanctimony, or self-righteousness, we will know when to bite our tongue and keep silent, and when to speak because it is necessary and timely.

Hindsight is a powerful teacher if we are willing to learn. Each of us has had those moments of epiphany when, looking back, we would have chosen to keep silent rather than speak, or, conversely, to speak up when we kept silent. We can’t change the past, but we can learn from it. This is how we grow and mature, ensuring that the words we speak are seasoned and echo the heart of God rather than our own ruminations.   

We’ve gone from insisting that we should be sober-minded, pursuing wisdom, and understanding the God we serve on a deeper level, to the notion that there’s no such thing as a dumb question, a bad opinion, and nothing we could ever say could be counter-productive because it’s we who said it, and only wisdom doth flow forth from our lips, does it not? It’s a self-serving, self-aggrandizing mindset that feeds the flesh to no end, and the instinct and desire to have an opinion on things we know nothing about becomes overwhelming because the possibility that it may inflate our pride and self-esteem is too tempting.

Whether crime scene investigation, geo-politics, bullet trajectories, or the date upon which Christ will appear in the heavens, there is no limit to the things some people claim to be specialists in at the drop of a hat, even though the closest they’ve been to a crime scene was the fallout from the Taco Bell meal they scarfed down while driving home the previous night.

Given that Job asked what provoked his friends to answer rather than whom, it’s clear that he was unaware of the conversations between Satan and God, or the level to which his friends were being influenced by the enemy. He’d concluded it must have been some emotion that provoked his friends to answer, whether unacknowledged resentment of him having been so favored in the sight of God, or vindication of their supposition that no one could be blameless and upright in the sight of God.

We knew it; we knew it all along. At least some of your faithfulness, integrity, worship, relationship, and fellowship with God were feigned. You were putting on airs. You wanted people to see you as something more than you were, and now God has finally had enough!

In Job’s case, he knew that if he could understand the what, he would understand the why. It’s one thing to be berated by friends and family for having done something foolish. It’s another to be berated by friends and family for something you haven’t done, and you know yourself to be innocent of.

What provokes you that you answer? Are you provoked by the desire to defend the truth or yourself? Are you provoked by the desire to defend Christ or a denomination? Are you more animated and vocal in defending the inerrancy of scripture than you are in defending a personal preference that scripture is not declarative and explicit on? If not, why not? What provokes you that you answer?

We know what happens when we get in the flesh and go to war over trivial matters while ignoring the crucial ones. There have been church splits, the breaking of fellowship, and denunciations by half of a congregation insisting that they were Ichabod over something as trivial as instruments during worship or the wearing of wedding bands by married couples. Just as small foxes destroy the vine, minor disagreements lead to chaos and destruction because those who should have asked what provoked them to take a hard line on such a tertiary matter did not.

If your soul were in my soul’s place, I, too, could be cold, callous, glib, judgmental, self-righteous, sanctimonious, accusatory, and self-serving, but knowing myself, I know I wouldn’t be any of those things. Instead, I would strengthen you with my mouth, and the comfort of my lips would relieve your grief. It’s not that I couldn’t be as hurtful as you have been; I would choose not to be, building up rather than tearing down, being a comfort rather than a source of pain and despondency.

The words I would speak would comfort you and relieve your grief rather than add to it, because I am your friend and possess brotherly love in my heart for you. One would think that such an answer would embarrass Job’s friends or cause them to pump the brakes on their vitriolic accusations. One would think it would prompt introspection or at least enough self-awareness to make them acknowledge that they had not been the kind of friends they could have been. Alas, as far as they were concerned, it was too late for all that.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.