Job CCXCV

 Job 31:16-23, “If I have kept the poor from their desire, or caused the eye of the widow to fail, or eaten my morsel by myself, so that the fatherless could not eat of it (But from my youth I reared him as a father, and from my mother’s womb I guided the widow); if I have seen anyone perish for lack of clothing, or any poor man without covering; if his heart has not blessed me, and if he was not warmed with the fleece of my sheep; if I have raised my hand against the fatherless, when I saw I had help in the gate; then let my arm fall from my shoulder, let my arm be torn from the socket. For destruction from God is a terror to me, and because of His magnificence I cannot endure.”

One cannot fault Job’s righteous anger in defending his innocence against what he knew to be baseless accusations. A guilty man would shrug his shoulders and attempt to justify his actions, trying to explain why he did what he did. An innocent man, however, sees the accusations as an insult and a sleight against his character, thereby mounting a defense not of himself but of his integrity.

Job wasn’t being flippant about his integrity, nor was there anything in his life that he knew he’d done wrong, to have to couch it in a lengthy explanation. He got down to brass tacks, stripping away platitudes or unnecessary verbiage, to the point that his directness would be considered blunt by today’s standards. So sure was Job of his innocence and uprightness that some of the things he said should happen to him had his actions been otherwise are truly horrific.

He started out tame enough, insisting that if his heart had walked after his eyes, or if any spot adhered to his hands another should eat what he had sown, and his harvest should be rooted out, but as we progress further into the chapter, he insists that if he had done any of the things he’d been accused of, his arm should fall from his shoulder, and torn from the socket. These are no small things.

It’s not as though he said that if his character was in any way sullied or his integrity compromised, he should get a mild headache or a hangnail. He did not minimize what he thought his punishment should be, knowing that he would have to endure it, but, certain of his innocence, he insisted that, were he guilty, it should be the worst thing he could envision at the time.

He was already covered in oozing boils, sapped of strength, barely hanging on, and in his state, the thing he considered worse still was that his arm be torn from the socket if ever he’d raised his hand against the fatherless, or ignored the poor.

Job said these things in light of knowing who God was, and understanding that God had the ability to follow through, were his words not honest, sincere, and forthright.

Throughout his life, Job had never seen the poor, the widow, or the fatherless as a burden, nor had he seen helping them as a chore. He hadn’t gone out of his way to avoid them, ignore them, or pretend they weren’t there, but whenever the need arose, he was there to meet it, knowing it was the right thing to do.

I’ve been blessed to know a handful of people who go out of their way to ensure that the hungry are fed, the naked are clothed, the cold are provided with a blanket, and the fatherless are protected from being exploited by the cold and callous among us. Such individuals never acted out of largesse or abundance; they shared the little they had, sacrificed, and went without so that someone could have a hot meal or a warm bed to sleep in.

Yes, by all accounts, Job had been rich, the richest among the people of the East, but that only revealed his nature, character, and integrity when it came to how he saw his fellow man, and the lengths to which he went to ease their suffering, fill their bellies, and show kindness.

Contrary to popular belief, wealth does not change a man; it merely reveals his true heart and character. Job insists that from his youth he reared the orphan as a father, and from his mother’s womb he guided the widow. That he should be generous with what God had given him had not been an epiphany he’d had in his latter years, but from his early days, he saw the need to protect the innocent and show kindness to those whom the world was doing its best to pretend did not exist.

Job wasn’t looking for accolades or plaques thanking him for his donation. He was a present help to those in need, even when no one was looking, even when there wasn’t a crowd of people gathered to witness his kindness.

It didn’t matter to him if someone witnessed his feeding the hungry or clothing the naked because he knew God saw, and that was enough for him. Any time we do something on behalf of another, hoping others see it, it pollutes the intent of the heart with which it was done. We become as Cain, grudgingly doing it out of duty, rather than sincerely desiring to be the means by which the hurting are comforted, and the hungry are fed.

Job did what he did from a clean heart and pure intentions, and seeing his declaration, both of his innocence, as well as how tirelessly he helped those from whom he had nothing to gain, we come to understand that God’s assessment of him being an upright and blameless man was not inflated or blown out of proportion. God saw Job as he was. It wasn’t a soft spot for him that compelled God to declare him to be a man who feared the Lord and shunned evil, but a true description of who he was.

The difference between men declaring someone a good man and God declaring someone blameless and upright is that God knows all, while men see only what they want to see. The two are not the same.

The question that begs to be asked, and one we must answer as individuals, is whether we strive to be seen as noble and virtuous by others or by God.   

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.