Job CCLVII

 Job 24:9-12, “Some snatch the fatherless from the breast, and take a pledge from the poor. They cause the poor to go naked, without clothing; and they take away the sheaves from the hungry. They press out oil within their walls, and tread winepresses, yet suffer thirst. The dying groan in the city, and the souls of the wounded cry out; yet God does not charge them with wrong.”

The actions of the wicked do not occur in a vacuum. They cannot be done in secret forever. Eventually, the effects of their wickedness are readily visible to anyone with intellectual honesty who does not see the world through the prism of some allegiance, whether to a particular man, a denomination, or a political party, but as it is, warts and all.

Some demand perfection from everyone within their sphere and live in perpetual disappointment. If the microscope were turned on them, they would fail to meet their own standard, but that either doesn’t register or doesn’t bother them to the point of dialing back the rhetoric of calling everyone Ichabod until they’re left alone on their island, praising their own self-righteousness.

That said, there should be a standard and a well-defined separation between the wicked and the righteous. Yes, I expect more from pastors, preachers, teachers, and elders than I do from politicians, athletes, or television personalities, and so does God. To excuse the behaviors of spiritual leaders that are on par with the most hedonistic, deviant, and off-putting practices of the wicked, while demanding righteousness of men who never claimed nor pretended to be spiritual pillars of God’s kingdom, is hypocritical on its face.

Luke 12:47-48, “And that servant who knew his master’s will, and did not prepare himself or do according to his will, shall be beaten with many stripes. But he who did not know, yet committed things deserving of stripes, shall be beaten with few. For everyone to whom much is given, from him much will be required; and to whom much has been committed, of him they will ask the more.”

We cannot invert expectations and expect more of a babe in Christ, or one who has never professed Him, than one who is supposed to be seasoned and mature. A general has a far greater responsibility than does the private, and more is expected of him by the King due to the level of authority committed to him.

Job knew there was a difference between the wicked and the righteous. Job knew what the wicked did, and that he didn’t do likewise. A man can boast of his righteousness yet do as the wicked, proving his boasts to be nothing more than empty words. Likewise, a righteous man can remain silent, speak nothing of his righteousness, yet his consistent, daily actions will reveal his integrity and the content of his character to all those with whom he comes in contact.

If wickedness does not occur in a vacuum, neither does righteousness. One’s actions will speak louder than words, whether their own or the words of others about them, because actions are tangible while words are just that. I can tell my wife and daughters I love them every day, but if my actions belie my words, if everything I do contradicts my declaration of love to them, at some point, they will doubt my sincerity or the veracity of my proclamations.

I love you, Lord, but I don’t want to spend any time in your presence. I love you, Lord, but I want nothing to do with your Word. I love you, Lord, but unless I’m in a pickle and I need some miracle-level intervention, I’d rather not be bothered with anything having to do with anything pertaining to Your kingdom. I love you, Lord, but not to the extent of caring for the widow and orphan, or feeding the hungry. I love you, Lord, but I’d prefer not to deny myself or pick up my cross since I have an aversion to splinters.

When referring to the wicked, Job makes a statement that could also be seen as an open-ended question: why does God not charge the wicked with wrong when the dying groan in the city and the souls of the wounded cry out? The short answer is, He does. Just not in the timeframe we would see as equitable, some not even while here on earth, but judgment is established for the wicked, and none will escape God’s justice, whether here, in eternity, or both.

The big idea in Job’s last response to Eliphaz is that one cannot remain steeped in wickedness, committing wicked deeds, having a heart of stone, and preying and exploiting the poor, the widow, or the orphan if God is the center of their lives. One’s close proximity to the righteousness of God transforms the heart of stone into a heart of flesh; it compels transformation from the inward parts, which is visible in the outward actions.

If no such transformation is forthcoming, if no such change is visible, if the things you sought, desired, or hungered for remain unchanged after your encounter with God, then it was a momentary experience rather than a transformative event that changed the entirety of one’s life trajectory.

Our encounter with God must be no less life-altering than Saul’s encounter on the road to Damascus. We may not see a bright light or hear a voice from heaven as Saul did, but the transformation must be no less life-defining. From that moment, Saul was no longer the man he had once been. He went from being the persecutor of the brethren to the staunchest defender of Jesus throughout the nations. Salvation is transformation, it is rebirth, it is being given a new mind and a new heart that no longer yearns for the things of this world but for the presence of Christ alone.

This is the one thing Job couldn’t get his mind around. How could his friends paint him out to be a man wholly given to wickedness, a man who exploited the poor, and had no empathy for the widow or the orphan, when the singular desire of his heart was to feel God’s presence, and when he knew himself to have treasured the words of His mouth more than necessary food.

Job had never taken to pretending to be something he wasn’t, but by the same token, he wasn’t about to admit to being something he knew himself not to be. There is a time to be silent, then there is a time to speak, but in all his defense, Job did not make it about himself, but rather the juxtaposition of the wicked and the righteous, appealing to God rather than man to vindicate him, and give him justice.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.  

Job CCLVI

 Do you not possess enough discernment to know the difference between the wicked and the righteous? Do you not possess enough understanding of God, His will, and His purposes, that you would confuse those who hunger and thirst after Him with those who despise and reject Him? Can you not see the difference between those who feed the hungry, shelter the fatherless, comfort the widow, and those who shun them, exploit them, and hurt them? He did not say it quite as poignantly or directly, but this is what Job was asking his friends.

You know what the wicked do, and it should come as no surprise when they do it. They seize flocks violently and feed on them. They drive away the donkey of the fatherless. They push the needy off the road. They do abhorrent, repugnant, inhuman things and justify them every day, but the children of God do not!

This is why it comes as such a shock to the system when you hear of men who claim to be godly, who are in positions of authority requiring godliness, doing the selfsame things they condemned those of the world for doing. It’s because, while they claimed to be different, were expected to be different, and were commanded by God to be different, they were only pretending when others were watching, but in their hearts wickedness abounded.

Yes, there is a difference between the godly and the ungodly. Yes, there is a difference between those who know Him and those who do not. The difference must be clear, discernible, unambiguous, and well-defined. They do those things; those who know God do not. At least that’s the way it should be, biblically speaking, morally speaking, and logically speaking. It goes beyond projecting an image, and since I’m a jaded sort of soul, people who try too hard to project a certain image are suspect from the jump, but to the core of one’s nature, to what they have been transformed into by the salvific power of Christ.

Why so jaded? Because I’ve seen enough, heard enough, witnessed the aftermaths, and helped pick up the pieces one too many times to allow for the childish notion that every guy in a suit with gel in his hair is what he claims to be. You will know them by their fruit. If there is no fruit, there is no power. If there is no fruit, there is no righteousness. If there is no fruit, there is no authority. You can claim all these things, but the absence of fruit is proof enough that your goals are something other than furthering the Kingdom of God or rightly dividing the Word.    

The difference between the wicked and the godly should be so vividly evident as to be undeniable. We are not of the dark; we are of the light, but if we are of the light, why are so many of those claiming to be of the light so comfortable in the dark?

If you can’t tell the difference between the two, you’re still in the dark. One keeps you blind, the other illuminates everything, including the corners, nooks, and crannies of one’s heart, exposing everything and leaving nothing in the shadows. When the light of the gospel shines in the heart of man, it exposes everything and reveals it for what it is. You don’t get to pick and choose what stays and what goes. Everything goes! The carpets get ripped out, the cupboards get replaced, a new coat of paint is applied because a new tenant is moving in, and He will not abide the filth, dirt, and cobwebs left by the previous tenant.

If your new life is no different than your old life, if you are still doing all the things the wicked are known for doing, then your new life is a lie. If you are in Christ, you are a new creation. Old things have passed away. You no longer identify with they, or them, those who would gladly starve widows if it meant a little extra coin in their pocket, or needlessly burden the poor in exchange for an easier life.

Job makes it very clear that wicked men existed in his day, and this is what they did, but he could stand before both God and man and adamantly declare that he had never done such things.

We were once like them, but they were never like us. We, too, were once dead in our sins and trespasses, but no longer. It’s why we have compassion on the lost and go out of our way to consistently point the way to Jesus. Anyone who exudes spiritual elitism rather than compassion when it comes to those yet in darkness forget that they too were once slaves to sin. They forget that they, too, were once shackled with chains of their own making, and it took Jesus to set them free. They didn’t do it on their own; they didn’t discover the key to their prison in a corner somewhere, but another who had once worn similar shackles took the time to tell them that there is freedom, there is light, there is life, and there is hope in Christ.

But you don’t get it, preacher man. I dug my way out of my prison Shawshank Redemption style. I pulled myself up by my bootstraps, poured all the booze down the drain, joined AA, and took a shower. All that did for you was transfer you from solitary confinement to the general population. Unless Jesus sets you free, you’re still in prison. Unless He washed you and made you clean, you still reek of death and despair.

John 8:34-36, “Jesus answered them, ‘Most assuredly, I say to you, whoever commits sin is a slave of sin. And a slave does not abide in the house forever, but a son abides forever. Therefore if the Son makes you free, you shall be free indeed.’”

Only Jesus gives true freedom. Anything else is either an illusion of freedom or a temporary pause on one’s journey to destruction. One may stop their self-destructive ways for a season, but they will never truly be set free until Jesus makes them free.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.  

Job CCLV

 Job 24:1-8, “Since times are not hidden from the Almighty, why do those who know Him see not His days? Some remove landmarks; they seize flocks violently and feed on them; they drive away the donkey of the fatherless; they take the widow’s ox as a pledge. They push the needy off the road; all the poor of the land are forced to hide. Indeed, like wild donkeys in the desert, they go out to their work searching for food. The wilderness yields food for them and for their children. They gather their fodder in the field and glean in the vineyard of the wicked. They spend the night naked, without clothing, and have no covering in the cold. They are wet in the showers of the mountains, and huddle around the rock for want of shelter.”

Job continues his discourse with a question that has wide-ranging and thought-provoking implications. Since times are not hidden from the Almighty, why do those who know Him see not His days? The first thing that stands out is Job’s acknowledgement of God’s omniscience. Nothing catches God by surprise. He is never blindsided, nor has He ever thought to Himself, “I didn’t see that coming.”

Times are not hidden from the Almighty. He is not reactionary, nor is there the constant push and pull of action, reaction, for He knows the entirety of human history, from beginning to end, and nothing is hidden from His sight. As wanderers and travelers on this earth, we operate with limited understanding. Not so with God.

He tells Jeremiah that even before He formed him in the womb, He knew him. If this was the case with Jeremiah, it was the case with Job, Paul, Peter, you, and me. There are no accidents, no coincidences, and no mistakes when it comes to the order of the universe, or the course of human history. God is not solely concerned about big events that shape and reshape the world, but is aware of how many hairs you currently have sprouting on your head. Each one, to the last, is numbered.

Yes, some of us try to make it easier on the Almighty and shave our heads so He doesn’t have to count every morning, but even if I had a glorious mane of lustrous hair, it would not bother God in the least to keep count. The one unanswered question I have, which will go in the rolodex of unanswered questions I’ve amassed over the years, is: Does God count transplanted hair? Does the hair someone had removed from their back and reattached to their scalp count as the hair on one’s head? Try unraveling that mystery! You’re welcome.

All kidding aside, if the very hairs of your head are all numbered, does anyone honestly believe that God would have made such a glaring mistake as to place someone in the wrong body, or assign them the wrong gender in the womb? It is and always has been about rebellion, about Satan trying to prove God wrong, or insisting that He made a mistake. Given that He is incapable of making mistakes, it’s a reach, but just because he failed every other time he tried, it doesn’t mean the devil will give up trying.

The second part of the question is another one of those gut checks that Job is fond of delivering, whether intentionally or otherwise, because it turns the spotlight on the children of God, those who know Him, and simply asks: why do those who know Him not see His days? Since times are not hidden from the Almighty, why are those who know Him unable to discern them? Why are we groping about in the darkness as those of the world, terrified at whispers and rumors, reacting to everything when we possess a clear roadmap of where the world is headed?

If, as those who know Him, we are as ignorant as those of the world regarding the times and seasons we are living in, what does that say about us and the manner in which we spend our days? Knowing God gives us access to understanding tomorrow just as clearly as today, and in knowing that He knows what tomorrow will bring, we are at peace, fully assured that He has made a way for His own.

That God would number every hair on your head yet be indifferent toward your survival, protection, and provision is incongruent with His nature. A God so meticulous as to know something so trivial would not accidentally lump in His children with the wicked when He pours out His judgment. It’s inconceivable and ludicrous on its face to insist that this is even a possibility.

The other day, I was picking my daughters up from school, and it was raining. It wasn’t anything cataclysmic, just a sheet of rain coming down steadily. While all the kids were running helter-skelter trying to avoid the rain and get to their parents’ cars as quickly as possible, one little girl was taking her time, walking slowly because her mother had brought an umbrella, walked into the school, and was holding it over her head.

The little girl was not bothered by the rain, nor did she do what all the other children whose parents hadn’t brought umbrellas were doing, because she knew she wouldn’t get wet. She was safe, and her mother would keep pace, holding the umbrella over her head. God’s got the umbrella; He knew the storm was coming, and He will be faithful to hold it over the heads of those who are His own.

We may only see in part, but we see enough to be fully assured that God is good, He is just, He is loving, and He is faithful. We may not know the ins and outs of every event from now until the return of Jesus, but we know that He is returning. We also know that when He returns, He will send His angels and they will gather His elect from the four winds, from one end of heaven to the other.

Is it not wisdom itself to focus on being one of those elect who will be gathered rather than endlessly ruminating on the power plays and machinations of the power-hungry? Am I His in word and in deed? Do I know His voice well enough to pick it out from a sea of other voices? Is my focus on the things above rather than the things of this earth? These are the questions we must contend with before anything else, because they are the questions that matter. The answers to these all-important questions set us apart, single us out, mark us, and on that day of days when He appears, we will be gathered unto Him.

There will be no squatters in God’s kingdom. No one will be able to sneak in, bribe their way in, or trick their way in. His elect will be gathered, and since He said narrow is the gate and difficult is the way which leads to life, and there are few who find it, it would behoove us to know clearly and unequivocally that we number among them.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.  

Job CCLIV

 There is enough aggregate data available to conclude that, save for divine intervention or some miraculous event, no individual could withstand physical or psychological torture indefinitely. Everyone has a breaking point. Given enough time, eventually, everyone breaks. The outliers, those that did not break, the exceptions to the rules, if one were so inclined to phrase it, were either those who expired while in the midst of their torture, or those whose purpose went beyond self-preservation, the defense of a nation or a state to something deeper, more profound, and all-defining. The big one was God, faith, a purpose beyond their mortal flesh they were willing to die for; family came in a distant second.

What few talk about is that even those who survive prolonged torture and, for whatever reason, do not break and retain their mental faculties, have to deal with the trauma for the rest of their lives.

I’ve been in conversation with enough people who spent months and years in prison, who suffered privation, humiliation rituals, beatings, tortures, and all manner of degrading and demeaning things, and they all had their scars. They all had their bruises. Some of the most stoic men I’ve ever met in my life would tense up at a particular sound, or begin to unconsciously clench their fists as they retold the stories of the horrors they’d had to endure.

It changes you. It leaves an indelible mark, no matter how resilient and strong-willed one might be. The best one can hope for is that it doesn’t become the defining event of their existence, but something they acknowledge they endured, lived through, and survived. The beauty in the retelling of the stories of those who suffered for the sake of Christ is that not only was God present during their trial, giving them strength they themselves knew they did not possess, but comfort and peace in the aftermath. Do they still bear the scars? Most assuredly, but not the open wounds.

It’s similar to those who’ve been to war, seen the brutality and horrors thereof, and return home trying to relate to family and friends who’ve never had to witness such things, who’ve never had a friend die in their arms, or suffer wounds that would be lifelong reminders of what they’d survived.

How does this relate to Job? Only insofar as understanding that intact as his integrity remained, strong and resilient as he was, the constant barrage by those closest to him, whether his wife or his three friends, left a mark. He was not unaffected; he was not indifferent. Their words connected, and they wounded and dispirited him, not to the point of his denouncing God or cursing Him and dying, but enough that the Almighty terrified him.

If he were the man Eliphaz painted him to be, and God had indeed remained silent because he had sinned, then Job had every right to be terrified. Standing before an omniscient God, standing before His throne of judgment, without having repented, without having been born again, without having been washed clean by the blood of Jesus, should be a terrifying prospect for every sinner, and every soul that delays humbling themselves and coming to the foot of the cross in repentance.

Those who know, know. Those who don’t know assume the best of themselves and their strength, until faced with the reality that when it comes to physical or psychological torture, it’s an open-ended proposition. It’s not like a prison sentence where you get to count down the months, days, and hours. There is no finality to the pain except by death, and the idea of it becomes a hoped-for relief after a while, as it did for Job.

You have a group of well-fed, well-rested, determined individuals whose singular purpose is to break you, break your will, and obtain the information they require that you have determined not to disclose. It’s not a fair fight, it’s not one against one, it’s not a battle of wills but a war of attrition in which you are outnumbered. The Geneva Convention does not apply; human decency is nonexistent, and there is no one to plead your case to or seek redress from. I paint this picture for a purpose: lest we judge Job too harshly for confessing that the Almighty terrified him, this is what he was currently going through, and had been for some time. No, his friends were not beating him with sticks and clubs; the enemy had seen to his physical torment well enough, but they were bombarding his mind with all manner of accusations and contrived presuppositions intended to cause him to lose hope.

It’s easy to sit in judgment of others when you don’t have to walk a mile in their shoes. It’s easy to insist that we would have been better men, had done greater things, and figured out what was still a mystery to Job, the why of his suffering, knowing himself to be innocent of all the accusations leveled against him.

At least if you’re in an interrogation room with someone beating you to a pulp, you know why they’re doing it. By the time it gets around to the torture portion of your incarceration, your persecutors have made it abundantly clear what you must do in order to make it stop. Job had no such clarity. He was suffering in ways we could hardly imagine, all the while not knowing why these things had befallen him.

It’s undeniable that Job was a tortured soul hanging on by a fraying thread. If the three men attempting to convince him of wickedness were given another three rounds each, his hope would have likely continued to fray incrementally, and the story would have ended very differently.

Even though Job had concluded that though he had not been cut off from the presence of darkness he had been cut off from the presence of God, it was not an accurate conclusion. God knew the limitations of what Job could endure, and though he allowed Satan to take him to the edge of despair and despondency, He would not allow Satan to push him over.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr. 

Job CLIII

 Job 23:13-17, “But He is unique, and who can make Him change? And whatever His soul desires, that He does. For He performs what is appointed for me, and many such things are with Him. Therefore I am terrified at His presence; when I consider this, I am afraid of Him. For God made my heart weak, and the Almighty terrifies me; because I was not cut off from the presence of darkness, and He did not hide deep darkness from my face.”

It’s interesting to note that a man who lived thousands of years ago, who did not have the benefit of the interwebs, commentaries, or even the Pentateuch, which are the first five books of the Bible, could have a better grasp on the reality of who God is than most seminarians or even seminary professors.

The closer we get to the end of all things, the more we try to convince ourselves that we can make God bend to our will, that He will do our bidding and act in accordance with our wants rather than His sovereign will.

Job had a profound understanding of God. He understood that God does whatever His soul desires and performs what is appointed for each person as an individual, because He is sovereign and omnipotent. He also understood that God was just, and His justice would prevail in the end.

Currently, Job’s consternation centered around the idea that although he had not been cut off from the presence of darkness, he had been cut off from the presence of God. If the presence of God were still tangible, if Job could still hear His voice and feel His embrace, not having deep darkness hidden from his face would have been an easier trial to overcome.

It’s not the presence of darkness, nor the trials of life that should vex us; it’s the absence of God’s presence that should trouble us to no end. For those not fully surrendered, for those insisting that they can have one foot planted in the world and the other in the Kingdom, the absence of God’s presence isn’t worrisome or troublesome, but a welcome occurrence. They know that their duplicity and feigned commitment are off-putting to God, and if He were near, if He were present, if they heard His voice, they know with absolute certainty He would speak correction and rebuke.

If God isn’t saying anything, I can pretend I am in right standing with Him. If He is not correcting or rebuking me, then I can keep doing what I’m doing, appeasing the flesh, and walking uncircumspect, while clinging to the illusion that He is well pleased with me, that He will abide and overlook my lukewarmness and divided heart.

James 1:22-25, “But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man observing his natural face in a mirror; for he observes himself, goes away, and immediately forgets what kind of man he was. But he who looks into the perfect law of liberty and continues in it, and is not a forgetful hearer but a doer of the work, this one will be blessed in what he does.”

Any man who feels relief when God is silent, equating His silence with validation of his choices, is doing what James said men do when they are not doers of the word but hearers only: deceiving themselves.

Job was troubled in his soul by God’s silence more than anything else his flesh had endured thus far. It was the voice of God he desired to hear, the presence of God he yearned to feel, and having endured the silence and absence for so long, Job was simultaneously terrified of God’s presence, as well as His absence.

The reason God’s presence now terrified him is that although he knew himself to be innocent of the accusations leveled against him by his friends, he now wondered if there had been something he had done to displease the Lord.

I cannot abide His absence, I cannot bear His silence, but I am terrified of His presence. That is not an enviable position to be in, but here Job was, having been affected by the words of his three friends to enough of a degree that the fear of what the Almighty might say terrified him.

When we allow ourselves to be affected by the words of men, whether they be praise or criticism, and don’t have the sure foundation of being a hearer and doer of the word, eventually the cracks will start to show, and there will be moments of indecision, hesitation, delay, and second-guessing.

Are you doing what the Word commanded you to do? If so, the words of men should be of no consequence. They do not determine how God views you; only He determines how He views you, and although Job was in this tug of war with himself, wherein he both feared and desired the presence of God, in the end, he had to acquiesce and submit to the reality that God does as He wills, whether men approve of it or not.

It’s easy to sit in judgment of Job and insist he should not have been terrified, especially when we fail to realize that you and I have countless privileges not afforded to Job. We have the written Word, we have numerous examples of faith, obedience, servitude, and steadfastness, but most of all, we have the Mediator between God and men, the Man Jesus Christ. Job had none of these things, yet God declared him to be both blameless and upright, a rarity among rarities, yet still a man ill at ease in the silence, yet fearful of hearing His voice.

There is an endearing quality to Job’s honesty, wherein he does not portray himself as superhuman, or having attained such spiritual heights as to not be affected by frailty and pain. Be wary of the man who says he’s never been hurt, bruised, or scarred. Either he stood at the back of the army, watching others do the fighting, never seeing the whites of the enemy’s eyes, or he was never on the battlefield to begin with.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.  

Job CCLII

 “I have treasured the words of His mouth more than my necessary food.” That’s the one sentence that resonated to the degree that it kept me up half the night. Job’s words not only challenge, but to a certain extent admonish, because they put the way we should view the Word of God into perspective, and looking back, I can pinpoint times, and even seasons, when I fell short of that ideal. It’s the passion and hunger with which Job describes the way he viewed the words of His mouth that are humbling more than anything else. It’s the value and worth, the rightful place of prominence that he assigns the words of God’s mouth that causes me to search my heart and realize that there have been times when the issues of life took precedent, if only for a short while, and I did not view the Word through the same prism Job viewed the words of God’s mouth.

We take the Word of God for granted as though we were owed it, deserved it, and everyone else throughout the history of mankind had the same ease of access and abundance of it as we do today. Perhaps it’s because our present generation has adopted the mindset that scarcity equals value, and if the Word is in such abundance here in the West, its worth must diminish in proportion to its availability.

My grandfather was a Bible smuggler. I understand better than most that in certain parts of the world, even to this day, the Word of God is rare, treasured, sought after, and sacrificed for. I also understand that it is hated by both the enemy and his minions, and above all, his other machinations, the enemy’s paramount purpose is to keep God’s Word from reaching the hands, hearts, and minds of men.

That we would have the complete canon of scripture within easy reach, readily accessible and available, and still turn aside to fables is not only telling but damning. It’s not ignorance that is making men embrace a different gospel; it’s not scarcity or lack of availability; it’s willful rebellion. They don’t like what the Bible has to say, so they either make up their own version or gravitate toward those who’ve done the legwork of producing heresy and made up their versions already.

Rather than obsessing over things we can’t control, and becoming overnight experts about everything from CERN to dwarf planets, to black holes, aliens, inter-dimensional flight, or alternate realities, our time might be better spent asking ourselves one question before resting our head on our pillows every night: Did I treasure the words of His mouth more than my necessary food today?

What does this mean? In essence, it’s whether I prioritized the spiritual man over the physical, not so much the flesh but rather the basic necessities of this present life. That the flesh must be crucified is a given, but this is not what Job was referring to. What he was saying is that the words of His mouth, the presence of God, and intimacy with Him must take precedent over everything, including what is deemed necessary for survival, such as food. As Jesus would later expound, seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you.

It’s about priorities and what we place at the top of our hierarchy of needs. As children of God, our hierarchical need structure must differ from that of the world. While the world is focused on psychological needs, security and safety, love, belonging, or esteem, our top priority must be seeking God’s kingdom and His righteousness. Our spiritual man, spiritual needs, and spiritual growth take priority, no matter how busy we get or how many responsibilities we have.

This must be an active, consistent, and purposeful pursuit, not something we hope will come about, but rather something we are actively working toward. If it isn’t, if we do not prioritize God in our day-to-day lives, there will always be something pressing that demands our attention, some new issue only we can solve, and we end up putting off the eternally consequential for the trivial matters of life that, looking back, will seem irrelevant.

God knows we need to eat, keep a roof over our heads, and clothes on our backs, and He promises that if we seek Him first, the things He knows we need will be provided for. Trusting in the promises of God eliminates fear about tomorrow and anxiousness about today. I am doing what Jesus said I must, which is to seek first God’s kingdom and His righteousness. Everything else, God has well in hand.

The choice before us is a simple one: Either we double down and keep pace with the ever-accelerating hamster wheel, working twice as hard to have half as much of the things of this world, or we rest in Him, knowing He is a good Father who keeps His promises to His children. Are you saying we should stop going to work? No, because ever since Adam, it is with the sweat of our brow that we must earn our daily bread. What I am saying is that if we consistently prioritize God, whether it’s over the promotion we’re vying for, the five-cent bump in hourly pay, or the shiny new car we’ve been eyeing, we will come to realize that He satisfies far more than any of those things combined.

Mark 8:36, “For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his soul?”

Know what matters most and pursue it with abandon. As Jesus asked, what will it profit anyone if he gains the whole world, not just a mansion on a beach, a Rolex, a Bentley, or a Learjet, but the whole world, lock, stock, and barrel, yet they lose their soul? Nothing. Nothing at all, because one day, though they may have gained the world, they will return to the dust of the earth, then judgment.

When offering a summary of life, the once greatest of all the people of the East said, “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return there. The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

In case you’re wondering, yes, it was the same man who said: “I have treasured the words of His mouth more than my necessary food.” Priorities, indeed.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr. 

Job CCLI

 Job 23:8-12, “Look, I go forward, but He is not there, and backward, but I cannot perceive Him; When He works on he left hand, I cannot behold Him; when He turns to the right hand, I cannot see Him. But He knows the way that I take; when He has tested me, I shall come forth as gold. My foot has held fast to His steps; I have kept His way and not turned aside. I have not departed from the commandments of His lips; I have treasured the words of His mouth more than my necessary food.”

Job’s biggest concern wasn’t the pain he was in, the possessions he’d lost, the children he’d had to bury, or that his friends were accusing him of things he hadn’t done, but that though he went forward, God was not there, and if he went backward, he could not perceive Him. It’s the absence of the presence of God that vexed him more than anything else he was currently experiencing, and that’s saying a lot.

If you’ve ever wondered why God saw Job as a blameless and upright man, this handful of verses should suffice in answering the question. The first thing that stands out and serves as the bedrock of Job’s unshakeable faith is that although he could not see, hear, or perceive God, he was certain that God saw, heard, and watched over him. He knows the way I take. He sees me where I am, as I am, hears the cry of my heart, and when He has tested me, I shall come forth as gold.

Just because God is silent, it doesn’t mean He isn’t there. Just because God does not act on our behalf when we would like Him to in the manner we deem fitting, it does not mean He will not, or is incapable of doing so.

Job had been crushed, everything he’d had was taken from him, his health was failing, his flesh stunk to the point that his own wife couldn’t stand him, he’d cried out day and night, repeatedly pleading for everything from an answer, a resolution, and even death itself, yet through it all he never doubted that God knew the way he took, and one way or another, when God had tested him, he would come forth as gold.

If you possess this level of submission to the will, purpose, and sovereignty of God, wherein no matter what, you are fully assured that God sees, hears, and will bring about a resolution in the manner He sees fit, then feel free to call yourself blameless and upright. If not, perhaps a little less chest-beating and a little more humility would be in order.

We murmur and bristle at the slightest hiccup nowadays, thinking it’s the end of the world if the corner store runs out of bagels before we get a chance to buy one, and fail to consider that we run across people every day who deal better with far worse things than we do with the trivial.

Job wasn’t boasting about his righteousness, his attributes, his charity, or his uprightness; God did it on his behalf. It’s an important distinction and one we would do well to take to heart. The only thing Job was certain of, and as such was willing to verbalize declaratively, was that his foot had held fast to God’s steps; he had kept His way and not turned aside; and he had not departed from the commandments of His lips.

Whether that classified him as blameless or upright did not concern Job. He wasn’t interested in the title, just the obedience and faithfulness. Had he been the sort of man to feign righteousness for the sake of others or pretend to be upright when he wasn’t, the inverse would have occurred. He would have boasted of his blamelessness, insisted upon his uprightness, while God would have remained silent regarding his boasts, or rebuked him for having made such claims.

This is also a reliable telltale sign, generally speaking, when someone insists that you address them by their title or office, whether self-appointed or undergirded by some piece of paper declaring them to be what they insist you address them as. Unless you live out in the woods, far away from civilization, you’ve likely run across such individuals, and more often than not, the entire exchange is off-putting and disappointing.

“I have a to-go order for Jeff”, the girl at the counter shouts over the din of conversation and steaming milk.

“Actually, it’s Dr. Jeff,” the man answers smugly. And? Will that make your coffee taste any better, or your bran muffin feel less like you’re chewing sodden dirt and crunchy pebbles?

Granted, I used an inoffensive example, but you know, and I know, and you know that I know, and I know that you know, that it happens with such regularity within Christendom as to have become cliché. Whether the title is prophet, apostle, elder, bishop, or pastor, unless that’s the name on your birth certificate, shake my hand and tell me your name’s Bob. I’ll respect you more for it.

If indeed you are an apostle or a prophet, the calling will be evident soon enough. If you aren’t, no matter how many times you insist I address you as such, you’re still a faker, a farceur, a pretender who will one day have to answer before God for having claimed a title you had no right to.

Claiming a title will do nothing to impress God. All it does is stroke the ego of the self-obsessed, self-serving, and self-aggrandizing, who, as yet, have no identity in Christ, but in themselves. If they did, they would understand that the title of servant is more than enough, it suffices, and encapsulates everything one could ever hope to be in Him.

I’ve known genuine men of God who could be labeled as prophets, biblically speaking, yet none of the real ones claimed the title for themselves, and what’s more, they scolded anyone who addressed them as such. They understood that it’s not about them as an individual, but about whom they served, and if any of the honor or glory risked being syphoned from Jesus and appropriated to them, it was something they could not abide.

If you ever wonder whether someone is or isn’t what they claim to be, ask yourself one question: Are they determined to further the kingdom of God, or their own? Do they give God the glory or take it for themselves? That should tell you everything you need to know.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.