Job CCCX

 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.