October 4, 2009
Grace Church
Rev. Robert E. Hensley

Job 1:1; 2:1-10; Psalm 26; Hebrews 1:1-4; 2:5-12; Mark 10:2-16 

      Let us pray.  O Lord, we recognize the sorrow, the sadness and the pain in our midst. And like the psalmist, we pray that people who sow in tears will reap with shouts of joy. We pray that those who sow in sickness will reap with health and wellness. We pray that those who sow in unemployment will reap in satisfying and fulfilling work. We pray that those who sow in disillusionment will reap in clarity. We pray that those who sow in hatred and anger and disgust will reap in love and peace and community. May we also say, along with the psalmist, “The Lord has done great things for us, and we rejoiced.”  Amen. 

      There is a story told that George Bernard Shaw was visiting with a reporter, and his wife was there. As they talked back and forth, the reporter noticed that Shaw’s wife was busily knitting. Finally he turned to her and said, “You seem very absorbed in your knitting. Is that a strong interest?”  

      “Not really,” she said. “You see, I’ve heard these stories of Bernard’s for years. And if I didn’t do something with my hands, I’d strangle him.” 

      I had thought that was a great story to begin a sermon about marriage and divorce, the theme of Mark’s gospel this morning.  And I suspect it would be an even better story if in fact I had decided to talk with you about marriage and divorce.  But I’m not.  Instead I am going to take the easy way out and reflect about the story of Job. 

      Now, it is true that you can give someone the cold shoulder, bring home the bacon and stew in your own juices. But do you have the patience of Job? Well if you do not, that is not a problem, because Job didn’t either. 

      The English language has other curious idioms. But how about the one about “bringing home the bacon”? Today it means coming home with a paycheck, but it used to be understood more literally. Back in the 12th century, a church in Britain started to award cured bacon strips to newly married couples if they could pass a particular test: They had to swear, after one year of marriage, that they had never once regretted the decision. If they made the grade, they could bring home the bacon. 

      How about “stewing in your own juices”? Today it means that we have to suffer the consequences of our own actions. But in the 13th century, the phrase was a gruesome euphemism for being burned at the stake, a horrible fate in which you would literally simmer in your own bodily fluids.  

      This is all prelude to the cliché that is before us today: “the patience of Job.”  

      That particular idea comes from the Old Testament story of Job, the tale of a poor soul from the land of Uz, described in today’s Old Testament lesson as a “man who was blameless and upright, one who feared God and turned away from evil” (Job 1:1). Despite his moral and spiritual perfection – or, perhaps, because of it – Job is subjected to a supernatural test in which he loses his property, his children and his health, and is challenged to retain his integrity and remain faithful to God. 

      The common reference about Job’s “patience” comes from the letter of James in which the author says, “You have heard of the patience of Job, and have seen the end of the Lord; that the Lord is very pitiful, and of tender mercy” (James 5:11). Oddly enough, search as diligently as you can, you will find that the word “patience” doesn’t appear anywhere in the book of Job itself. 

      No matter. Conventional wisdom argues that the patience of Job enabled him to endure suffering as he kept at the same time his faith in God. He took the long view in life, looking well beyond his considerable losses, and because of this he was able, eventually, to experience the compassion and mercy of God. 

      But is this in fact, true to the story of Job? 

      Not exactly. 

      There are many adjectives that can be used to describe Job, but patient is not one of them.  

      Blameless, upright, faithful, long-suffering, steadfast, honest; yes, all of these work.  

      But if you look at the text, Job does not bear his affliction calmly, as a patient person would; instead, he cries out, “I loathe my life; I will give free utterance to my complaint; I will speak in the bitterness of my soul” (10:1).  

      A far cry from showing “cheerful endurance,” Job screams, “My spirit is broken, my days are extinct, the grave is ready for me” (17:1). 

      Then he moans and complains, “God has made my heart faint; the Almighty has terrified me; If only I could vanish in darkness, and thick darkness would cover my face!” (23:16-17).

      Job is definitely an honest man. But a patient man? Not by any stretch of the imagination. 

      There are many life-changing lessons in the story of Job, but patience is not one of them. It is more fruitful to focus on several other messages that are delivered with far greater clarity, messages about the nature of suffering and the importance of faithfulness to God. These are not clichés like “the patience of Job,” but are, instead, insights that leave us with something truly nourishing to chew on. A focus on suffering and faithfulness enables us to read Job and then – bring home the bacon.  

      First, about the nature of suffering. The book of Job makes it all too clear that not all human suffering is deserved – it is not necessarily a punishment for a life of beer, brawls, fornication, impurity, passion and greed. Job is a righteous man, described by God as being “a blameless and upright man who fears God and turns away from evil” (1:8).  

      And yet, in spite of this, he loses his property to raiding Sabeans and Chaldeans, and his sons and daughters die in a natural disaster (1:13-19). As if this is not painful enough, he comes down with loathsome sores that cover him from head to foot (2:7). Job is an absolute mess, leaving onlookers to wonder, “Woe…what did he do to deserve this?” 

      The answer, of course, is, “Nothing.”  This intense suffering descends on Job through no fault of his own. Jesus himself knew this, and observed a number of years later that God “sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous” (Matthew 5:45). We should never be quick to conclude that anyone deserves the suffering they experience; not anyone, including ourselves. 

      Gerald Sittser was a history professor with a wonderful family. But one day, his wife, his 4-year-old daughter and his mother were all killed in a car accident caused by a drunk driver. Sittser’s life had been going very well, but then, in one horrible moment, he lost three of the most precious people in his life. 

      His suffering was compounded eight months later, when the driver of the other car was acquitted of vehicular manslaughter. The defense attorney was able to cast enough suspicion on the testimony of several witnesses that he was able to get his client off the hook. 

      Sittser was enraged. But then he began to be bothered by his assumption that he had a right to complete fairness in life. “Granted, I did not deserve to lose three members of my family,” he writes in his book A Grace Disguised (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1996). “But then again, I am not sure I deserved to have them in the first place.” His wife was a woman who loved him through some very hard times. His mother lived well and served people to her life’s end. His daughter sparkled with enthusiasm and helped to fill his home with noise and excitement. “Perhaps I did not deserve their deaths,” he concludes; “but I did not deserve their presence in my life either.”  

      We should never be quick to conclude that people deserve the suffering they experience.  But at the same time, we should never jump to the conclusion that people deserve their blessings, either. Job makes much the same point when he asks the question, “Shall we receive the good at the hand of God, and not receive the bad?” (2:10). 

      The second clear message of Job is that faithfulness to God is of critical importance, in bad times as well as in good times. Gerald Sittser did not turn his back on God after his family was killed by a drunk driver, nor did Job abandon the Lord in his time of overwhelming loss. It is essential that we not give God the cold shoulder when we encounter a period of undeserved suffering. 

      Can we scream and yell at God? Of course we can! “I will not restrain my mouth,” shouts Job. “I will complain in the bitterness of my soul” (7:11). There is nothing wrong with offering up a passionate and honest complaint, as long as we direct our complaining to God. Job grabs hold of the Lord like a dog with a bone, and he won’t let go until God responds to him. What saves Job is that he remains faithful to God, always demanding that God hear him and take him seriously and respond to his concerns. 

      In the end, as Carl Jung puts it, Job saw the shadow of God. He hears a word from God and is satisfied. “I know that you can do all things,” Job admits, “and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted” (42:2). What Job finds is a sense of peace in his relationship with God, not in a well-ordered list of neat and tidy responses to all his unanswered questions. 

      The same can be true for us. Like Job, our challenge is to accept both the bad and the good, and to remain in close contact with God through every twist and turn of life, never turning from and giving God the cold shoulder. Ultimately, we will find that it is an honest and intimate relationship with God that saves us, and puts us in a position to discover true serenity and peace. 

      And once we acknowledge and embrace this relationship, we will be able to face any ordeal. Because without it, all that we will do is just stew in our own juices. Amen. 

Source:

 
“Delicious phrases: Curious origins of our tasty language,” from Mental Floss, reprinted in Utne, March-April 2003, 87-88.