The Book of Job is arguably different from every other book of the Bible. Even though it is near the middle of the Old Testament, being the eighteenth of thirty-nine books, the Book of Job is perhaps the earliest book of the Bible set in the period of the Patriarchs.
Although there has been boundless debate about who wrote the
Book of Job, there is no conclusive evidence. While some have proffered that
Moses, Solomon, Hezekiah, Elihu, or Job himself were the authors, all of these
opinions have no historical undergirding or proof that they were so. Speculation
is just that, and not knowing definitively who authored the Book of Job does
not take away from its impact and timelessness.
Regardless of who the author was, the book itself is a
literary masterpiece. It is disarming in its simplicity and near-overwhelming
in the profundity of the topics it broaches. Given that most of the book takes
place on a dung heap outside the city, some have taken to calling the Book of
Job reductionist. If by reductionist they mean that all the unnecessary
narrative flourishes one might expect have been stripped away, then perhaps it
is. As far as it being impacting and demanding of both contemplation and
self-evaluation, hardly.
There are lessons to be learned from Job's life that
transcend culture, language, upbringing, or historical timeframe because
suffering and how we react to it are universal themes. The Book of Job is
simultaneously humbling, exalting, encouraging, revelatory, and heartbreaking.
It tackles the age-old question of why the righteous suffer, especially in
light of God being both loving and all-powerful, and sets the bar for what true
suffering is.
However bad a time you’ve been having lately, however
horrible a day you’ve had up to the present moment, one re-reading of the first
chapter of Job will put life and suffering into perspective to such an extent
that you will fall to your knees in gratitude to God for all His many
blessings. If there is one constant reminder, one consistent refrain throughout
the Book of Job, it’s that there is a greater purpose behind our trials and
tribulations, and it is a truth we can never forget.
For the most part, we’ve never known true suffering here in
the West, yet we still find reasons to complain and murmur about all the things
we think we ought to have but as yet have not been given. Most of us can’t
relate to someone like Job, the things he endured, and the testing he went
through, and that’s both a good and bad thing.
The reason it’s good is obvious: no one looks at Job’s life
and says, “Boy, I wish I were in his shoes!” Sure, the first five verses of Job
are enviable enough since he was, after all, a man who was blameless and
upright and was rich enough to have thousands of sheep and camels and hundreds
of oxen and donkeys, but after the fifth verse, his life takes a turn.
Why it’s also a bad thing is not as obvious, but nevertheless
telling regarding the mindset of the average churchgoer today. We’ve been so
inculcated and indoctrinated with the idea that our justified expectations
should fall within those first few verses describing Job’s abundance that
whenever suffering comes upon us, we are incapable of reacting to it properly,
having the proper response, or learning from the valleys we must traverse in
life.
Life can turn on a dime. In an instant, every safety net,
security, and normalcy you knew can be flipped on its ear, and things you
thought permanent and immutable can be shaken to their very core. It may not
kill you, but you wish it had, and if your faith is not cemented and firmly
established, the weight of it can crush you into dust.
The truth is that if you desire to live a life of obedience
and submission to God's will and sovereignty, you’re likelier to experience
suffering than you are to live your best life now because God’s purpose isn’t
your physical well-being but your spiritual sanctification.
Does God still heal? Yes, undoubtedly so, but as He wills and
for His purpose. If your healing will work together for good according to His
purpose, it will be so. However, if your testing works together for good, it is
likewise according to His purpose. It’s not that you lack faith or didn’t give
enough to the faith healer who promised to regrow the thumb you sheared off
with a band saw; it’s that God’s purpose for your life is something greater
than you can currently see.
As I write these lines, I’m halfway through my fourth
consecutive reading of the Book of Job, and although I’ve read it multiple
times before, this is the first time I’ve sat down, meditated on each verse,
and taken notes. With each new read-through, something new leaps from the page
that serves to humble me in ways I dare not plumb too deeply, lest I abandon
this journey before it’s begun.
I find myself echoing Paul's words in his epistle to the
Romans: “Oh wretched man that I am,” not out of a false sense of humility, but
at the realization that what I thought to be suffering wasn’t, and what I deemed
as a strong and abiding faith pales in comparison. It’s hard to imagine what
Job went through, let alone try to walk a mile in his shoes. Seeing how easy my
life has been thus far compared to those who came before and how many of God’s
blessings I’ve taken for granted throughout my life humbles me all the more.
The Book of Job is all meat, no filler. It’s one of those
books you have to chew on and sit with and allow to reveal itself in its own
time and at its own pace. You can’t rush it, nor can you give it one
superficial read-through just to check it off in your journey through the Bible
in a year reading goal. If you do, you’re likely to miss some of the most
impacting morsels of this book, both when it comes to learning how to suffer
well, as well as relational dynamics between spouses and friends, and how
you’re likely to be viewed by others in the midst of your suffering.
It offers us a glimpse into the life of a man whom God
declared as blameless and upright yet who witnessed the loss of everything in
short order. Would I remain faithful and steadfast given similar circumstances?
This question keeps me up at night and rouses me before sunrise. I pray that I
would, but until you’re in the meat grinder, making your way through the ashes
of your former life, clinging to faith in the sovereignty of God because that,
a wife telling you to kill yourself, and a potsherd are all you have left, it’s
difficult to give a declarative answer.
The Book of Job doesn’t offer platitudes or easy answers. It
doesn’t provide a way out of enduring hardship but shows us the way through it,
avoiding the pitfalls of bitterness, capitulation, or doubt as to God's
sovereignty. It doesn’t deal with how you can achieve your best life but rather
what you should do when the worst possible thing you can imagine comes upon you
suddenly, and you’re crushed into the dust by the weight of it all.
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