Job 34:16-20, “If you have understanding, hear this; listen to the sound of my words: should one who hates justice govern? Will you condemn Him who is most just? Is it fitting to say to a king, ‘You are worthless,’ and to nobles, ‘You are wicked’? Yet He is not partial to princes, nor does He regard the rich more than the poor; for they are all the work of His hands. In a moment they die, in the middle of the night; the people are shaken and pass away; the mighty are taken away without a hand.”
If you cannot
convince someone of your position by the soundness of your argument, your next
best bet is to wear them down with the multitude of your words. I envy people
who can tell the same banal story a thousand times with the same enthusiasm and
fervor. Unfortunately, I am not one gifted in this area of oratory, and to the
dismay of those who hear me preach, teach, or drone on for the hour or so on
the radio program every week, there isn’t much repetition.
In what seems
like another life, I was an interpreter for my grandfather. When we traveled,
and it was often, those who came to hear him wanted to hear his testimony, and
he told it not because he wanted to elevate himself in any way but because it
was a springboard to the real message of repentance and holiness unto God lest
judgment be visited upon this nation.
I never found
that dull or tedious, because it was his testimony, and he was, after all, my
grandfather whom I loved and had great fondness for. What I do find dreary and
lackluster, however, is when out of the entirety of the Bible, sixty-six books
in all, some preachers choose one favorite passage from which they preach the
same message to the point that the audience can quote it verbatim, and they
never seem to tire of it.
It’s the reason
I’m reticent in retelling my grandfather’s testimony: it’s his testimony, and
as far as the message for America goes, it’s available for free, on multiple
platforms, whether in written form or audio, so for me to retread already
tilled soil seems like an ill use of the time I’ve been given.
It would be no
hard thing for me to endlessly hopscotch down rabbit trails, and regurgitate my
grandfather’s testimony ad nauseam, but to what end? There must be a purpose to
what we do beyond endless self-promotion, or the attempt at riding someone
else’s coat tails for the sake of clout. The time I spent traveling with my
grandfather wasn’t always easy; oftentimes it was brutal, but they are all fond
memories because I got to spend a solid decade and change with the man who
taught me how to ride a bike, made me my first slingshot, and was a consistent
example of servanthood and obedience. There are far worse ways to spend your
teenage years, but I am a teenager no longer, and the calling to which I have
been called differs from that of my grandfather, perhaps not substantively but
in the granular details.
You can tell a
lot about a person by the things they say and what they choose to focus on.
Elihu was so wrapped up in himself, so eager to prove his mettle and unveil his
genius, that he demanded anyone within earshot stop what they were doing and
listen to the sound of his words. It is, after all, the only way you will see
how wise I am, how brilliant, how compelling, and you will walk away knowing
how unique and special I am. By the end of his oratory, they may have walked
away thinking him special, but not in the way he would have liked.
There are some
nuggets of truth buried in Elihu’s self-honoring, self-promoting speech that
deserve to be unearthed and pondered, chief among them the reality that God is not
partial to princes, nor does He regard the rich more than the poor. It is men
who judge other men based on their appearance, their wealth, their position, or
their prominence. None of the things men judge others by are what God judges men
by. We are all the work of His hands, fashioned from the same clay, and the
only things that set men apart and are noticed by the Almighty are the selfsame
things that made Job stand out: being blameless, upright, and fearing the Lord.
Do you belong to
Him not just in word but in deed? In modern parlance, are you merely talking
the talk, or walking the walk? Is Jesus on the throne of your heart? Is His
presence the overarching desire of your heart? These are all questions we can
answer for ourselves as individuals, and if the answer is no, then no amount of
influence, authority, or prominence will make Him regard you in a better light.
The rigidity with
which Elihu viewed God and the implacable, unbending conclusion that there are
no exceptions to the rules he established is what made him so myopic. This is
the way God must operate, and no other. This is the way God must do things, and
no other possibility exists. You, who was once the greatest of all the people
of the East, are now a wretch, a pitiable thing covered in boils, and this can
only mean one thing: you have sinned, committed wickedness, such wickedness
that cannot be expressed given the extent of your troubles. Proof? No, there is
no proof. There is no evidence, but your present condition is all the evidence
I require.
The failure to
understand that God does as He wills, and is not subject to the preconceptions
of His creation, is one of the quickest ways to run afoul of God Himself.
Creation will never be in a position to dictate what the Creator can and cannot
do, and to claim such is to place oneself above His sovereignty.
You can declare
and proclaim until you’re blue in the face, and if God does not will it, it’s
for naught. When we pray “Your will be done,” it is in all things, not just the
ones that benefit or profit us in some form or fashion. Often, God’s will
humbles us and brings us low, but even in such instances, His purpose is to
draw us ever closer to Him. While Job was honest enough to acknowledge that he
did not, as yet, understand God’s purpose in his suffering, Elihu was supremely
assured that he did. The only problem is that Elihu was wrong.
With love in Christ,
Michael Boldea, Jr.