Job CCXXXVII

There’s a reason we are instructed to flee not just evil itself, but the appearance of evil. It’s not because we’re self-righteous, judgmental, or consider ourselves above it all, but because even when in the orbit of the appearance of evil, there is a chance of getting caught in its wake, being associated with things, situations, and individuals who will drag our names down into the mud as surely as theirs. It’s not judgmental to protect one’s spiritual purity. It’s not judgmental to choose not to validate, celebrate, or cosign for the choices of certain individuals who would use your validation as confirmation that the life they’re living really isn’t all that bad.

If the pastor of a mega church, celebrated and elevated to a position of spiritual authority unseen since Paul the Apostle walked the earth, visits me at my house, takes pictures with me, hugs me, smiling as the cameras are rolling, perhaps the things I thought I should divest myself of, repent of, turn away from aren’t necessarily evil. If they were, surely the preacher man would have called me to repentance and insisted I turn from my wicked ways instead of reserving a front row pew for me and my entourage for Sunday service.

No, accidental, or even sporadic proximity is not evidence of guilt, or evidence of sin for that matter, perhaps the most you can say is that they were unwise in choosing their circle of friends, but it goes beyond all that, and when you’re actively courting individuals not because you want to share the light of the Gospel with them but because of the influence you can exploit or the check they might write, don’t be surprised when the chickens start coming home to roost.

As the old world saying goes, you can’t play in the mud and not expect to get any on you.

If we understand that the wages of sin is death, and that those who die in their sins have no hope for recourse once they breathe their last, we likewise understand that anyone in spiritual authority turning a blind eye to someone’s sin because they fear offending them if they were to call them on it, has no love in their heart for the individual but quite the opposite. If you see someone drowning, you throw them a life preserver; you don’t ask them to write you a check to build a new wing on your already opulent building. Eventually, the intent becomes evident, and the drowning man will grow both embittered and disillusioned upon realizing that the individual who presented himself as a caretaker of men’s souls cares nothing for the souls of men but how many zeros they can write on a check.

When Solomon wrote that a good name is to be chosen rather than great riches, he knew what he was talking about, even though he ended up not following his own advice. When the richest man to ever live talks about great riches, I would wager it’s not a paltry sum of any sort. One cannot separate who said the thing from the thing itself.

If someone whose diet consists of gas station grilled cheeses tells you that the best meal you’ll ever have is from the rusty food truck down the road, you have every right to be suspicious. If the individual who wouldn’t be caught dead in anything less than a one-star Michelin restaurant says the same thing, you’re more likely to give them the benefit of the doubt. It wasn’t a beggar who said that a good name is to be chosen rather than great riches; it was the richest man ever to walk the earth. That should hold some weight, but alas, here we are, thinking nothing of sullying our reputation in exchange for some imagined clout.     

Job 21:22-26, “Can anyone teach God knowledge, since He judges those on high? One dies in his full strength, being wholly at ease and secure; his pails are full of milk, and the marrow of his bones is moist. Another man dies in the bitterness of his soul, never having eaten with pleasure. They lie down alike in the dust, and worms cover them.”

Although Job wasn’t having an existential crisis, he was in the throes of an existential introspection regarding the purpose of man, and trying to make sense of things the human mind could not wrap itself around. We can grapple with it, consider it, question it, but as far as understanding goes, that would mean we understood the mind of God Himself, which the Word clearly states that we cannot.

His ways are not our ways, His thoughts are not our thoughts, and before we think to question, dissent, or otherwise disagree with His sovereign actions or decrees, we must remember He judges those on high.

When those who are tasked with rightly dividing the Word actively attempt to undermine it, twist it, distort it, or outright insist that God was wrong on some topic or another, they are no less attempting to play god as the wicked who believe their rebellion will eventually succeed and God will have to bow to their will rather than them bowing to His will.

Job was a man who went from having everything he’d ever needed to having nothing to his name but a potsherd and some ashes. He’d lived the highest highs and the lowest lows, and with his anecdotal experience as the baseline, concludes that rich or poor, prince or pauper, of great renown or a total unknown, all lie down alike in the dust, and worms cover them. Whether we live to sixty or a hundred, eventually, we all lie down alike in the dust. Whether our pails are full of milk or we’ve never eaten with pleasure, we all share these two things in common: we are all born, and we all die.

It’s as though Job is trying to highlight the absurdity of living for the here and now, for this present life, for this present existence, knowing what the end of all flesh will be. Men build great temples to themselves only to see them torn down and bulldozed to be replaced by fresh temples that will eventually suffer the same fate. There is only one thing we can do in this life that will echo throughout eternity, and that is to be born again, to know Jesus as Lord, King, and Savior, for all else is vanity, folly, and a wasted life.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.