Job 29:7-12, “When I went out to the gate by the city, when I took my seat in the open square, the young men saw me and hid, and the aged arose and stood; the princes refrained from talking, and put their hand on their mouth; the voice of the nobles was hushed, and their tongue stuck to the roof of their mouth. When the ear heard, then it blessed me, and when the eye saw, then it approved me; because I delivered the poor who cried out, the fatherless and the one who had no helper.”
Job wasn’t a
nobody who stayed a nobody. He was a somebody who became a nobody in the eyes
of his contemporaries. It’s the difference between falling off a stepstool and
falling off the roof of the house. Neither is pleasant, but one will hurt far
worse than the other.
Job had been a
man of great influence in his city, one who garnered respect and admiration, so
much so that when he was present, even princes refrained from talking and put
their hands on their mouths. Even the nobles were hushed in his presence, and
their tongues stuck to the roof of their mouth, because even in their hubris,
they realized Job was a notch above their station, whether in possessions,
position, or authority and influence.
Even though he
was the greatest of all the people of the East, he did not use his wealth to
subjugate the weak, nor was he a man lacking in character and morals. He did
not look down on the poor, the fatherless, and those who had no helper, but
delivered them.
Because his
relationship with God defined him, Job was a man with a heart for the hurting,
one who, out of his own largesse, helped those who had no way to repay his
kindness. His inclination was not to hobnob with the nobles or ingratiate
himself with those in power but to show kindness, empathy, and charity to those
who went largely ignored and seen as a nuisance rather than fellow human
beings.
There is no way
of knowing if Job had always been kind, generous, and charitable, but what we
can know with certainty is that his relationship with God amplified these
qualities in him, as God’s presence always does.
The presence of
God transforms a man from the inward parts. A heart of stone is replaced with a
heart of flesh, an indifferent posture toward the needs of others transforms
into a desire to reach out and help those who are hurting, not because there is
something to gain from showing kindness to strangers, or because it will polish
one’s image with the public, but because it has become one’s nature to do so.
When Job
delivered the poor who cried out, or the fatherless who had no helper, he
wasn’t doing it because there were cameras present, or because a news crew had
just arrived, and it would elevate his status with the masses if they saw him
being magnanimous. It wasn’t about him or his image but about being obedient to
the voice of God, and doing the things he knew would be well pleasing to the
Lord.
It’s not so much
that the presence of God makes you the best version of yourself as some are
fond of saying, but rather the presence of God transforms you into a likeness
of Him, which transcends who you are or what you could become on your own.
Some of the most
impactful testimonies I’ve ever heard had to do with the juxtaposition between
who someone was before Jesus and who He transformed them into after His
indwelling presence. Men, once given to violence, anger, and malice, became
gentle and meek by the transformative power of Jesus, not because they tried really
hard to be better men, but because God made them better men.
From the outside
looking in, such a transformation makes no sense and seems impossible. For
those still in darkness, even the flicker of a candle can be blinding.
Eventually, some get up the courage to ask what the secret is, what steps the
person took to turn his life around. Was it meditation, reflection, journaling,
therapy, pharmaceutical-grade anti-depressants? And there’s your window.
There’s your opportunity to speak the name that changed your life for the
better, that transformed you, and set you on the path of righteousness: Jesus!
Job’s discourse
does not come off as a lament over the loss of his possessions, his status, or
the way others viewed him. His singular desire was the knowledge of God, and
for such a man, what others say about you, whether for good or ill, doesn’t
affect you or impact you, whether positively or negatively. He was looking back
on his life and stating facts. He didn’t try to make himself out to be more
generous, influential, or respected than he had been; he was looking back on a
life well lived and remembering.
There are those
who amplify and trumpet the smallest of kindness they show toward others, then
there are those who do the heavy lifting, who give, and sacrifice, and
understand that God sees the truth of it, He sees the heart with which we help
the poor and the fatherless and though we may help in secret, the Father who
sees in secret will Himself reward us openly. Job wasn’t praise-farming, nor
was he trying to elicit a positive response from his friends. By this point,
they’d already made up their minds; they thought him a wicked man, and nothing
he could say would change their minds. If for nothing else, then for posterity,
Job took a stroll down memory lane and remembered those he helped along the
way, who would likely be dead and gone if not for his godly heart.
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