Job CCXLIII

 The problem with rationalism is that it is limited to the understanding of the individual and takes into account only what the person can see with his physical eyes and reason out with his physical mind. It does not allow for the unknown, it rejects the notion of the supernatural, and there are no such things as mysteries or exceptions to their predetermined rules. For Eliphaz, it was a simple matter of causality, and in order to rationalize Job’s situation, to make it make sense in his own mind, the only conclusion he could logically come to was that Job was a wicked man, so much so as to eclipse any other wicked man he’d ever come across. If you have no facts or evidence, you just make it up out of whole cloth, start lobbing accusations, and see what sticks.

Even though all evidence pointed to the contrary and refuted Eliphaz’s accusations, this was now a crusade for him, for to admit otherwise would be to shake the foundation of his entire belief system. If Job were innocent, as he claimed to be, then he would have to rethink his entire worldview. What else could he have been wrong about if he was wrong about this? Better to conclude that his lifelong friend was heartless and cruel. Better to conclude that he would turn away the hungry and watch someone die of thirst than to acknowledge that he might be in the wrong about this.

Pride is a many-tentacled beast, and once it wraps itself around one’s heart, it constricts their ability to consider any other plausible explanation than that which they’ve already come to. It makes one myopic and stiff-necked, to the point that they will insist that water isn’t wet, fire doesn’t burn, and the sun does not shine, all to undergird their preconceptions.

No matter how elevated human wisdom, no matter how well learned one might be in the ways of the world, only God can know the why of a thing with certainty. Eliphaz thought he knew, was even certain he knew, why Job was suffering as he was, but he didn’t. He was guessing and drawing conclusions based on incomplete data and anecdotal accounts he’d heard or read about.

The need to rationalize and discover the cause of a thing is not exclusive to Eliphaz. He wasn’t special or unique; he was human, and as such, had the typical instincts of those who came before him and those who would come after him.

One day, as Jesus passed by, he saw a man who was blind from birth. The first instinct of His disciples was to inquire as to the cause of his blindness. “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” To them, it was a binary question that required one of two answers. Either the man had sinned, or the parents had sinned. Their worldview was such that it did not allow for the possibility of a third option. In their minds, there were only two plausible answers, and one must have been the right one. That someone had sinned was a given to them. Their only concern was to discover who it was.

John 9:3-6, “Jesus answered, ‘Neither this man nor his parents sinned, but that the works of God should be revealed in him. I must work the works of Him who sent Me while it is day; the night is coming when no one can work. As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.’ When He said these things, He spat on the ground and made clay with the saliva; and He anointed the eyes of the blind man with the clay. And He said to him, ‘Go, wash in the pool of Siloam’ (which is translated, Sent). So he went and washed, and came back seeing.”

The answer Jesus gave His disciples could readily be applied to Job. He had not sinned, he was not being punished for his wickedness, but he was enduring all this that the works of God should be revealed in him. It was an answer Eliphaz had not bothered to consider, one he was not willing to entertain, because he’d already made up his mind.

Sometimes things are not as they appear. Sometimes the answer isn’t binary. Sometimes what you think you know with absolute certainty turns out to be less than certain, so rather than jump to conclusions and insist that I have the right of it on any matter at any time, the best course of action is to humbly acknowledge that I know in part, and understand in part, but God knows it all and I will trust Him even when I cannot see clearly.

Sure, we can get petulant and demand answers, but God is not obligated to give them. When He chooses not to, your duty is to submit to His sovereignty rather than try to come up with answers on your own. If You won’t tell me why, if You won’t show me the roadmap to the end of my existence, if You won’t tell me why I’m hurting, why I’m in the valley, why I’m being buffeted, I’ll just make up my own story, and draw my own map. That type of mindset never ends well. It never bears good fruit, and more often than not, men talk themselves into walking further away from God than toward Him when they take it upon themselves to blaze their own trail.

I understand that it may grate against our sensibilities, or deflate our ego a bit, but we know in part, and we prophesy in part, and it will ever be thus until that which is perfect has come, and that which is in part will be done away with. These words were not penned by a naïve, but by the selfsame man responsible for writing two-thirds of the New Testament. If he could acknowledge the reality that he understood in part, it should be no hard thing for us to acknowledge likewise.  

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.