DOES FAITH EVER STRUGGLE?

June 24, 2024

JOB’S FAITHFUL ENDURANCE IN GOD’S STORY

[This is chapter 6 from my Yet Will I Trust Him (College Press, 1999), pp. 153-181.]

                          What is man that you make so much of him,

                                      that you give him so much attention,

                          that you examine him every morning

                                      and test him every moment?

                          Will you never look away from me,

                                      or let me alone even for an instant?

                          If I have sinned, what have I done to you,

                                      O watcher of men?

                          Why have you made me your target?

                                      Have I become a burden to you?

                          Why do you not pardon my offenses

                                      and forgive my sins?

                          For I will soon lie down in the dust;

                                      you will search for me, but I will be no more.

                                                Job to God, Job 7:17-21

Although we recognize intellectually that there is a difference between the loss of a job and the losses of Job, the pain of the moment and the  questions that are raised before God seem to dispel all degrees of suffering. While all suffering is relative (the death of a loved one hurts more than the loss of a job; or, perhaps it is better to say that it is a different kind of hurt), the endurance of suffering levels all suffering to the same plane. The suffering that is most painful is the present one. The moment of suffering is absolutized in the suffering itself. Though we may recognize the intellectual distinctions between different kinds of suffering, the pain is emotionally and spiritually indistinguishable. So, the questions we all ask, the doubts we all ponder, are the same ones — no matter what the suffering. They are the questions and doubts of Job. Consequently, the righteous man Job has something to teach us about the endurance of suffering. As we watch Job, we watch a person who passed the test. As a result, we learn something about faith. We see one whom we can emulate.

Job’s trial was a struggle of faith. He passed the test, but it was no easy one. He blazed a trail of faith, but it was no effortless task. Job’s story is the story of a believer who struggles with his questions, doubts and despair. Many empathize with this struggle. At the same time, his persistent refusal to curse God is an example of faith. Job’s trial is the trial of all believers. His victory is the victory of all believers. Therefore, it is important to watch this person of faith struggle through his trial in order to learn something about the nature of faith. The story of Job discloses something about the nature of faith and lament as well as the nature of our relationship with God in a fallen, scared world.

Job addressed his questions to God, the providential Governor of the universe. He asked the one who controls nature, the one who permits or causes natural events. As a result, the question “why” is a real and legitimate one. It is no mere emotional outburst nor venting of frustration. The question is genuine and meaningful. If God intervenes, if he permits, if he causes, God must have a reason. God does not act arbitrarily. Job knew this, and he wanted to know the reason just as we want to know the reasons for our sufferings. Consequently, like Job, we ask “Why?”

Yet, for the modern and postmodern person, “Why?” is more an exclamation than a question. It is a declaration: “What a senseless and meaningless thing to happen!” For Job, “Why?” is a real question for the moral and sovereign God. While it is an exclamation, it also asks, “Why has God done this?” It asks, “Why did God permit or cause such a senseless and meaningless thing to happen?” It asks, “What is the meaning of this suffering?” It asks, “What is its purpose?”

But the difference between a mere exclamation and a real question is immense. The former is packed full of emotion, but does not expect to find any real meaning in the suffering. The latter is also emotional, but it believes — perhaps hoping against hope — there is real meaning in suffering. It believes there is an answer to the question. It believes that all suffering has reason and purpose. The former sees the disasters which bring suffering as mere randomness, chance or luck. The latter sees the disasters as divinely purposed. It believes that God has some good reason for permitting or causing this pain. Are natural disasters the result of random chance or divine purpose (whether permissive or causative)? In the face of evil, which is the best alternative? Which is more meaningful? In this chapter we will watch Job raise these questions, see how God answers them, and how faith survives.

Job’s Lament (3:1-26)

In his opening lament Job does not directly address his friends or God as he does in the ensuing dialogue. Yet, his lament is for the benefit of both. Job vents his despair. It is a poetic complaint which implicitly addresses God.[1] Job laments that he did not die before he was born (3:1-8). The day of his birth should have never dawned. It has become to him a day without joy (3:7). Even though his mother carried him to term, it would have been better to have been stillborn than to suffer the present trouble (3:9-10). Job simply wants to die since in the grave he can rest from his trouble. “There,” Job says, “the weary are at rest” (3:17). Exiles can enjoy release from captivity in the grave, and slaves can enjoy freedom from their masters (3:18-19). But God continues to give light to those, like Job, who are miserable. Job is one of those who will rejoice at death (3:20-22) because it will be a release from suffering. He asks, “Why is life given to a man whose way is hidden, whom God has hedged in?” (3:23). Life has nothing more to offer Job. He has “no peace, no quietness” and “no rest, but only turmoil” (3:26). The only resolution he can see is death. Only there can he find peace and rest from trouble. While this is a death-wish, Job does not contemplate suicide. He knows that it is only God who has the right to give and take the breath of life (12:10; cf. 1:21). Job will not use his own hand to usurp what belongs only in the hand of God. Rather, Job laments his present circumstances. From the vantage-point of the trash heap, it would have been better had he never seen life than to have suffered as he has. Job reverses the saying, “It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.” Job believes it is better to never have loved than to have loved and lost. This is the depth of Job’s grief.

The attitude of complaint is clear in the constant questioning. The most significant and expressive word for any sufferer is repeated five times (NIV, NRSV) in this short lament.[2] It is the word “why.” “Why did I not perish at birth?” (3:11a). “Why were there knees to receive me and breasts that I might be nursed?” (3:12). “Why was I not hidden in the ground like a stillborn child?” (3:16a). “Why is light given to those in misery, and life to the bitter of soul?” (3:20). “Why is life given to a man whose way is hidden, whom God has hedged in?” (3:23). Job equates life with misery and bitterness. Since the womb did not shut its doors, “trouble” is now before his eyes (3:10, 20). Death and darkness in Sheol are better than the misery and trouble. Yet, Job is asking a real question. He wants to know “why,” and he knows that God has the answer. Job’s question is the lament of a despairing person — one who believes it would be better to be dead than to continue his troubled existence. He does not believe he has anything to which he can look forward. As he exclaims in 7:7, “my eyes will never see happiness again.” Death is Job’s best prospect, yet, as one who longs for death, it does not come (3:21). But though the question “why” is the expression of despair, it is also, as is clear from the coming dialogue, a live question. Job wants an answer.

In a twist of irony, Job believes that God has “hedged” him in (3:23) when, in fact, God has simply constricted the “hedge” that protected him (1:10).[3] The nature of the hedge depends on one’s perspective. For Job, God has come crashing down on him, surrounding him with a confining hedge. This is the perspective of every sufferer. He is right, of course, in that God does bear responsibility for his condition. The problem, however, is that Job’s suffering is interpreted as some kind of hostile action on God’s part. The prologue, on the other hand, sees God’s hedge as his protection of Job, a protection that is still in tact to some degree. Satan is restricted. God has hedged Job’s life — he will not permit Satan to take it. But from Job’s perspective that is no protection at all. Rather, it prolongs the suffering. Ironically, Job wants even that hedge removed. Job wants relief. He does not expect it in this life, so he wants death. Yet that is the very thing that God will not permit. The very hedge which God has around Job is the thing Job wants removed. Job, therefore, is frustrated, troubled and grieved. It is better to be dead, Job thinks, than to continue his painful existence.

Job’s lament reflects his present suffering. He expresses his pain, disillusionment and hopelessness. Sufferers wonder “why” they suffer. They think about how it used to be, and whether it was worth being born at all. They think about how death — as horrible as death is — would be better than what they presently feel. There is no quiet rest in the life of the sufferer in the moment of suffering. As believers sit on the trash heap, the only response is faithful lament which waits for God to speak comfort.

The Problem

Job knows he is innocent. He also knows that God’s hand has done this. The problem is fairness. God does not seem to be playing by his own rules. Job’s friends could draw the simple conclusion that Job is an arrogant hypocrite. While they can reason that God is justly applying his rules so that Job is punished for his sins, Job knows better. He cannot succumb to such a simplistic answer. To do so would deny his own integrity.

As readers, we understand Job’s problem. Job knows, and we know, his integrity. He knows he is God’s righteous servant, as God himself indicated in the prologue (1:1,8; 2:3). Yet, he suffers the fate of the wicked. He has no option but to wonder about God’s fairness. He cannot dismiss what has happened to him as mere coincidences or “bad luck.” He cannot believe God was totally uninvolved. But neither can he deny his own integrity. He wonders about the “evil” (or trouble) that has come upon him when such trouble only belongs to the wicked. After all, it is the “fate” of the wicked that he now suffers (27:13). Job has the whole of wisdom tradition behind him: people reap what they sow. Yet, either his traditional interpretation of that principle or his traditional understanding of God must be adjusted. In the midst of his suffering, it is difficult for him to adjust to either. Consequently, his faith leads him to lament rather than to precise theological diatribes. It evokes lamentation rather than sophisticated theological discussion.

Biblical wisdom literature generally supports the traditional wisdom of the friends. For example, Proverbs 19:23 reads, “The fear of the Lord leads to life; then one rests content, untouched by trouble.” Again, Proverbs 28:14, “Blessed is the man who always fears the Lord, but he who hardens his heart falls into trouble.” According to this biblical tradition, the person who fears God is free from trouble. This compounded Job’s situation. He recognized that he had received “trouble” (literally, evil) from God (2:10; 30:26).[4] The writer of the prologue and epilogue recognized that this trouble had come from the Lord (2:11; 42:11).[5] Indeed, the epilogue is quite explicit in referring to the “the trouble the Lord had brought upon him” (42:11). The problem is acute: how can God give Job the “trouble” which properly belongs to the wicked when he is not, by God’s own admission, wicked? If wisdom promises blessings for the righteous instead of trouble, why does Job suffer trouble when he is righteous? Job’s plight seems to run against both the traditional and biblical understandings of how God runs his universe. God’s fairness is at issue.

Job initially asks the question that all sufferers ask: “Why?” The question arises out of intense agony and disillusionment. All sufferers can empathize. The question gropes for meaning in suffering. Job thinks, as do we, that knowing why will lessen the pain and provide the motivation for endurance. That is part of his disillusionment. Is there really any finite reason which can justify the suffering that Job endures? Is there any human reason that can make sense of the death of his children? Job can see no good reason. As a result, he questions. If the end of his life is this kind of suffering, Job asks “why” he was even brought out of the womb (10:18)? If this is the nature of his suffering, he wants to know “why” God has made him a target for his arrows (7:20)? If he is innocent and does not deserve this suffering, Job wants to know “why” God has become his enemy (13:24)? The question “why” underscores the perplexity that Job feels. He is bewildered by the circumstance — he is a righteous person who is suffering terribly. If he could just know why, if he could just know the reason, then perhaps he could understand and endure the burden. But his ignorance generates confusion and disillusionment.

Job’s “whys” become bitter complaints. His constant questioning of God receives no answer except the stinging attacks of his would-be comforters. They know why — Job has committed some great sin. But Job cannot accept that answer; he knows better. Yet, he receives no answer from the one to whom he has addressed the question. God does not reply. He does not speak. God is silent, and this increases Job’s frustration. Job becomes impatient, and his questions become bitter complaints.

In response to Eliphaz, he adamantly roars that he will not sit in meek silence and bear his punishment. Job cries, “I will not keep silent; I will speak out in the anguish of my spirit, I will complain in the bitterness of my soul” (7:11). When Bildad asserts that God does not reject a blameless person but punishes the wicked (8:20), Job’s deeply felt questions become frustrating affirmations. He responds, “I loathe my very life; therefore I will give free rein to my complaint and speak out in the bitterness of my soul” (10:1). When Eliphaz holds out the hope of restoration after repentance and righteousness (22:22-30), Job will not relent and give up the only thing he has left — his integrity. He asserts, “Even today my complaint is bitter” (23:2a).

In these three texts (7:11; 10:1; 23:2) where “complaint” and “bitterness” are combined to express Job’s feelings (the only places in the Hebrew canon where they occur together), Job is venting his frustration. As he thinks and rethinks his relationship with God, his only resort is to lodge a complaint against him. This complaint is shrouded in bitterness. To “forget” the complaint does not rid him of the suffering (9:27,28). He would gladly give up the complaint if God would only relieve him of the suffering, or at least explain it. But the pain combined with God’s silence pushes him to press his complaint even further.

Job finally begins to accuse God of injustice. Is it really fair that Job should suffer this way? What reason could God give that would justify his treatment of Job? Since Job cannot avoid the question “Why?” and he can see no good reason for the suffering, he can only struggle with the impossible thought that God is unjust. He questions the fairness of God. Of course, Job knows better than to call God’s justice into question, but from the vantage point of the trash heap Job can fathom no other alternative. He agrees with Bildad who asks the rhetorical questions, “Does God pervert justice? Does the Almighty pervert what is right?” (8:4). No, he does not, Job would agree. But Job is confused. He is righteous but he is suffering intensely. Job must think the unthinkable. Is it possible that God is unjust and is amusing himself with the misery and confusion of his creatures? Where is the God of justice in the suffering of Job?

Job realizes that he cannot in any ultimate sense dismantle and undermine the justice of God. God is “not a man like me that I might answer him, that we might confront each other in court” (9:32). If Job wishes to question God about his justice, “who will summon him” (9:19)? What impure man will justify himself before the Pure One and dispute his justice (14:3,4a)? The answer is, “No one!” (14:4b). Yet, despite Job’s theological recognition that he is no match for the Almighty God, his suffering drives him to vent his frustration and his anger by charging God with unfairness, by raising the unthinkable questions. These are the questions no one dares to ask, but which everyone does ask.[6]

In chapter nineteen Job becomes particularly frustrated with both his friends and with God. He accuses his friends of betrayal. In this painful explosion, he expresses his disappointment (19:5-7):

                        If indeed you would exalt yourselves above me,

                                    and use my humiliation against me,

                        then know that God has wronged me

                                    and drawn his net around me.

                        Though I cry, “I’ve been wronged!”

                                    I get no response;

                        though I call for help,

                                    there is no justice.

This passage responds to Bildad’s question, “Does God pervert justice?” (8:4). Job responds that God has “wronged” him so that he receives no “justice.” The verb “wronged” (translated “pervert” in 8:4) and the noun “justice” are the same terms Bildad used. Given his experience, Job knows that Bildad is wrong.  God’s justice does not mean that only the wicked suffer. Job himself is an innocent sufferer. “There is no justice” rings in the ears of all sufferers in the midst of their suffering. Everyone can empathize with this exclamation. We all have felt it even if we have not voiced it as boldly as Job does here. Job, like all of us, sees a serious problem with the justice of God in relation to innocent suffering. His experience existentially affirms what he knows is theologically impossible. The existential moment of the sufferer is a far more powerful thing than the intellectual, theological reflection of happier times. In this context, and as the dialogue reaches a climax, Job, in the framework of an oath, emphatically states that God “has denied me justice” (27:2).

The sufferer, and Job is a primary example, can see no good reason for his suffering. Where he can find a good reason, there he would acknowledge God’s hand as punishment or discipline, or even redemption. But finding good reasons is rarely achieved in the moment of suffering. We may find it in hindsight, but even then a good reason is often elusive, and rarely found. There are some things, many things, which seemingly defy any hope of finding “good reasons.” The moment of suffering, however, cannot discern them even if they are there. The natural frustration of the believer, then, is vented in complaint to God. Even righteous Job, the man whom God acknowledged as the best on earth, could not escape those feelings. In the moment of pain, in the heat of the dialogue, Job sees no alternative other than to conclude that God has denied him justice.

In the context of traditional wisdom it is understandable that Job would raise certain questions about his situation. His first question is “Why?” His second question is “Is it fair?” His questions were accompanied with pleas and requests.  Finally, his pleas became demands. In particular, he demanded an audience with God himself. He wanted a list of charges and a trial to establish his innocence. This demand pushes Job to use a “legal metaphor.”[7]

The Legal Metaphor

Job, in fact, was already on trial. Köhler has suggested that the whole dialogue (Job 3-27) exhibits the formal proceedings of a legal assembly at the gates.[8] It is as if the city elders are debating the righteousness of Job. Their heritage of wisdom which clearly distinguishes the consequences of righteous and wicked living is the legal principle. Their evidence is what God has done to Job. The three friends are engaged in a grand legal discussion which is tailored to answer one question: Why has Job suffered so much? The legal argument proceeds along these lines: (1) Only the wicked suffer the loss of their children (among other things); and (2) Job has lost his children (among other things); (3) therefore, Job is one of the wicked. What is the cause of Job’s suffering? The friends can only answer: Job must have done something to anger God, that is, Job is a great sinner. Job, armed only with his own integrity, seeks to rebut the charge.

Because Job felt wronged, he wanted his case tried. Either his friends must bring forth specific charges against him or he must hear them from God. Satan’s accusation was continued by his own friends. Job is fed up with his friends, and he knows his only recourse is to present his case to God. He tells his friends, “What you know, I know; I am not inferior to you. But I desire to speak to the Almighty and to argue my case with God” (13:2,3). The friends must be quiet, and he will present himself before God if God will summon him. He challenges the friends, “Can anyone bring charges against me? If so, I will be silent and die” (13:19). Job wants to speak, and then he wants God to reply (13:22). He wants the list of sins he has committed which have resulted in this trouble. “How many wrongs and sins have I committed?” he asks. “Show me my offense and my sin” (13:23). He asks God to remove his “hand” from him and to “stop frightening” him with “terrors” (13:21). He calls upon God to summon him into his presence so that he may speak and hear God’s reply (13:22).

Of course, both Job and God, as well as the reader, know that there is no list of sins. God has no indictment against Job. Satan is the accuser and God is the defender. God refutes Satan’s accusation through Job’s faith. God has confidence in his servant.

Job believes that given his day in court, “there an upright man would present his case before him,” and he would be “delivered” (23:7). Lest we misunderstand, we should note that Job’s confidence is in his integrity, not his sinlessness. Job admits the “sins of [his] youth” (13:26). But he protests his innocence in the light of his integrity before God. This is the crux of the test — God seeks authentic hearts that reach out to him in faith. Even in the midst of his suffering Job has remained a disciple of God, treasured his words, and kept his commandments. Even though he suffered under the burden of God’s hand (23:1), he remained committed to God. His credo is steadfast (23:10-12):

                        But he knows the way I take,

                                    when he has tested me,

                                                I will come forth as gold.

                        My feet have closely followed his steps,

                                    I have kept to his way without turning aside.

                        I have not departed from the commands of his lips,

                                    I have treasured the words of his mouth

                                                more than my daily bread.

Rebuking Eliphaz’s implication that Job had turned his back on God’s instruction (22:22), Job replies that he has never rejected God’s words. On the contrary, he has always treasured them more than bread itself (cf. Deuteronomy 8:3; Matthew 4:4). Job is confident that when God has finished testing him in this darkness, he will come out of the fire like gold. In the midst of his trial, suffering did not push Job over the edge into accepting the counsel of his friends — to profess a false self-incrimination (19:4-6) — nor the counsel of the wicked to admit that serving God is unprofitable (21:16). God, then, should justly decide in his favor. God should be pleased with his faithful endurance, and we know from the epilogue that God was so pleased (42:7-9).

Job’s problem is that he cannot find God. In God’s presence he could state his complaint and have it acted upon, but where is God’s presence in this suffering? Everywhere he looks, God is not there (23:8, 9). God does not answer him. He does not come to him. God is silent. In fact, Job is perplexed by God’s hiddenness. “Why,” he asks, “do you hide your face and consider me your enemy?” (13:24). “Why,” he questions, “does the Almighty not set times for judgment? Why must those who know him look in vain for such days?” (23:1). In other words, why does not God act so as to set the world aright and repair the world’s injustices.[9] God’s silence makes him appear apathetic, both to the tragic circumstances of his saints (like Job) and the prosperity of the wicked. When the poor are oppressed and starve (24:4-5), God is silent. When the children of the poor are seized for debt payments (24:9), God is silent. When murders, thieves and adulterers pillage humanity (24:14-15), God is silent. “God charges no one with wrongdoing” (24:12).

Even though God is silent, Job will not remain so. He invokes a curse upon the wicked and calls upon God to judge them.[10] Even though God is silent, Job is confident that God’s “eyes are on their ways” (24:23), just as God knows Job’s “way” (23:11). Job invokes an imprecation (a curse upon the wicked) in the hope that God will no longer be silent. God, in the final analysis, is the only one who can rectify the situation. He alone can condemn the wicked and redeem the righteous (24:22). Job, therefore, seeks an audience with God to discuss the fallen nature of his universe. He seeks an explanation as to why he is treated as though he were wicked and the wicked are treated as though they were righteous. Of one thing Job is certain: God “does whatever he pleases” (23:13). Why then does he not do what is just?

 After his friends have fallen silent, after they had given up on Job’s conversion, Job gives an extended declaration of his case. Chapters 29-31 function as Job’s legal brief in the divine courtroom where he makes his own his case for his integrity. It is his legal complaint. The climax of this legal approach is this bold plea (31:35-37):

                        Oh, that I had someone to hear me!

                                    I sign now my defense — 

                                    let the Almighty answer me;

                                    let my accuser put his indictment in writing.

                        Surely I would wear it on my shoulder,

                                    I would put it on like a crown.

                        I would give him an account of my every step;

                                    like a prince I would approach him.

Job has presented his case. He has given a history of his situation. His circumstance has moved from blessing (29) to suffering (30). He has affirmed his ethical lifestyle (31). Now he wants God to hand down the indictment. He wants to know the exact charges against him. What is the sin that permits God’s justice to cause him to suffer so intensely? If there is no such sin, as Job contends, then Job should be acquitted. But the acquittal of Job is the indictment of God. If Job does not deserve his suffering, what right did God have to lay it upon him? Job is confident about his case. He knows his integrity. He will approach God “like a prince” because once he knows the charges, he is confident he can answer them. He is confident of his acquittal. Job’s problem is not self-righteousness, but ignorance. Job knows his own integrity, but he does not know the prologue. He knows his integrity, but he does not know the purposes of God or how he works.

The Victory of Faith

Despite his ignorance of the prologue, Job’s questions are neither simplistic nor illusory. They are hard and real. His despair is no momentary pitfall, but the bottom of a deep ravine. Suffering has evoked depressing thoughts (God as an enemy, 19:11), severe accusations (God attacks him in anger, 16:6), and bitter complaint (7:11). Job has lost hope of ever seeing happiness again (7:7). He despairs over the loss of all his dreams and goals (17:11). He yearns for the grave where he can find peace and rest (17:13ff). Yet, this is “patient” Job! He is not patient in the sense of some kind of sentimental self-imposed acquiescence. In fact, Job admits his own “impatience” when it comes to the frustrations of his experience (21:4). Rather, he is patient as one who continues to trust in God. Job is not known for his “patience,” but for his enduring faith. This is precisely the point which James makes — Job was an example of endurance (James 5:11). He is the supreme example of an enduring faith. But can a person of faith accuse God? Can a person of faith despair? Can a person of faith lose the hope of joy in this life? Job did all three.

What we see in Job is the struggle of faith — the struggle to believe despite the circumstances around him. He believes even when there seems to be no reason to believe. Job’s wife thought that the best resolution was to curse God and die (2:9). But this was the essence of the test. Will Job believe even when he has no reason to believe? Will he maintain his integrity where there is no gain or profit? Everything was taken from him materially, physically and emotionally. Will Job maintain his integrity, his fear of God, even in this desperate circumstance? The answer throughout the book’s dialogue is a resounding “Yes!”

Throughout his vacillations between despair and anger, between doubt and terror, Job maintained an implicit trust in the God of the universe. Job would not deny his integrity, but neither would he curse his God. He trusted God and continued to hope in him. Several texts offer a window into Job’s faith.

Job 13-14

In chapter 13 Job rebukes his friends for speaking wickedly on God’s behalf. His friends showed “partiality” to God, or spoke “deceitfully for him” (13:7-8). Job demands their silence since they would not fare any better than he were God to examine them (13:9-12). They must be silent, but Job must speak. He cannot suppress his fears and misapprehensions. He must approach God (13:13-14, 16). This is a terrifying prospect — to stand before God and defend one’s integrity so as to accuse him of unfairness. Yet, it is understandable because prayer often becomes the medium for that very thing. Lament as prayer often becomes the means by which the faithful vent their feelings, doubts and frustrations. Lament cries out to God about the fallenness of the world, and often complains about the suffering of the righteous. But it is this prayer of lament that Job affirms his faith in the transcendent God. He confesses (13:15-16):[11]

            Though he slay me, yet will I hope in him;

                        I will surely defend my ways to his face.

            Indeed, this will turn out for my deliverance,

                        for no godless man would dare come before him!

Faith and hope belong together. Indeed, the word hope here is sometimes translated trust. The verb simply means to wait or tarry, and here it clearly carries the sense of trust/hope/faith. Job is determined to state, even defend, his case before God. He knows that a possible outcome is death, or expulsion from the presence of God (the term “slay” is God’s act against the wicked, as in Psalm 139:19). But his faith will still rest in God. He will wait on God. He trusts God no matter what. He can find no one else to trust. Anderson comments that “this speech expresses the strongest confidence of Job in both his innocence and God’s justice.”[12] Even if God should act in what appears to be an unjust manner, that is, to slay him, Job will still put his hope in God. When all is lost, who else can he trust? Who else is there to trust? As Peter said to Jesus, “To whom will we go? You have the words of eternal life” (John 6:68).

Job’s deep faith is seen again in that same speech (12-14). Job sees hope in God’s fellowship with him after death. Job is ready to go down into the grave without vindication (14:13), but he expects to receive “renewal” or “release” (14:14) when God calls him and takes care of his sins. God will seal up his transgressions in forgiveness (14:17). Then he will receive vindication. Yet, Job recognizes that he must “wait” (same word as in 13:15) for that time to come (14:14). After God’s testing is past, God will renew fellowship and restore relationship with Job. God will call and Job will answer. This is the language of personal relationship, of a “renewed communion” between God and Job.[13] It may be that Job expects some kind of eschatological vindication here. He certainly expects a day when he would, in the words of Alden, “experience ‘renewal’ (v. 14), converse with God, and have his sins forgiven and forgotten.”[14]

Job believes that justice must find expression somewhere. God will again consider him his friend. At some point God must set the world right again; he must renew it. At some point, God will vindicate Job’s innocence. There is a such a finality to death that Job does not expect to come back to his community after death (14:7-12). He does not expect his vindication to be a resuscitation that returns him to his prior blessed existence. Such a resuscitation would vindicate him before his friends who so insistently accuse him but that is not his explicit hope. Nevertheless, he does not expect his death to be the final act in God’s drama. He believes that after death, God will vindicate him. The final act in Job’s story will be vindication and restoration, even if he dies in his current condition. Job will wait on God for this renewal. He expects it because he trusts God.

Job 16-17

Chapter 16 also contains an expression of faith that transcends the despair of the moment. Job has rejected his friends as “miserable comforters” (16:2). They cannot empathize with him. Job’s pain intensifies when he reflects on how God has attacked him like a lion tearing apart its prey (16:6, 9). God has turned him over to evil people (16:11), devastated his household (16:7), and made him the bullseye of his target (16:12-13). The result is that Job is in bitter mourning (16:15), and he cries, “My spirit is broken, my days are shortened, the grave awaits me” (17:1). Job does not believe he will live to experience his own vindication before his peers (17:13-16). Nevertheless, he has not sinned in his grief — his prayer is pure (16:17). He is committed to the way of the righteous (17:6-9). In this setting Job reflects on his hope. Despite appearances to the contrary, Job believes that he has a “witness” in heaven or an “advocate” who will intercede for him (16:18-21):

            O earth, do not cover my blood;

                        may my cry never be laid to rest!

            Even now my witness is in heaven;

                        my advocate is on high.

            My intercessor is my friend

                        as my eyes pour out tears to God;

            on behalf of a man he pleads with God

                        as a man pleads for his friend.

Earlier Job had asked for a mediator who would put one hand on God and another on him so that their relationship might be restored (9:33). Here, however, he expresses the confidence that he has an intercessor who pleads his case. He has moved from requesting an impartial arbitrator to his confidence in a legal advocate, an intercessor. Whoever this intercessor is, Job rests his hope in him. Job expects the restoration of relationship with God through this intercession. His doubts and questions do not bring him to the point of ultimate despair. He despairs but he hopes. He complains, but he is confident that God will commune with him again.

His cry in 16:18 is a cry for vengeance over spilled blood, much like the ground cried out for vengeance over the spilled blood of Abel (Gen. 4:10), or the saints under God’s altar cried out for vengeance over the spilled blood of the martyrs (Revelation 6:10). Job’s blood must not be covered up. On the contrary, this tragedy must be reversed. Justice must be done, and only the one who is “in heaven” or “on high” can carry out this vengeance. Whom does Job have in mind here? Hartley answers the question well:[15]

Considering the various passages in which Job thinks about arguing his case before God, the best candidate for the defender that can be found is God himself…Here Job appeals to God’s holy integrity in stating his earnest hope that God will testify to the truth of his claims of innocence, even though such testimony will seem to contradict God’s own actions. Such risking is the essence of faith. For a moment Job sees God as his steadfast supporter. In this plea he is expressing the trust that God had expressed in him in the prologue because he is pushing through the screen of his troubles to the real God. He is not essentially pitting God against God; rather he is affirming genuine confidence in God regardless of the way it appears that God is treating him. Since Job, in contrast to his friends, will not concede that truth is identical with appearances, he presses on for a true resolution to his complaint from God himself.

In this moment, as he pours out his tears to God, he knows God will be his friend and his intercessor. God, who knows the facts, will testify to his innocence, as, in fact, God did in the prologue (2:3). God, in the end, will show himself friendly to Job even though present appearances are to the contrary (and this is what happens in the epilogue). Though Job vents his laments with talk about God as his enemy, in the depths of his heart Job knows that God is his friend.

Job 19

In chapter 19 Job complains that his friends treat him like an enemy. They treat him like God treats him, pursuing him like a lion pursues its prey (19:21-22), and Job has “escaped only with the skin of [his] teeth” (19:20). In this context, Job offers the most laudable expression of faith in the book. Here, clearly and decisively, we see the person of faith. The Job who refuses to deny his integrity also refuses to deny his God. He is unable to integrate how the two fit together because he does not understand why God has permitted his righteous servant to suffer. That tension generates lament, but it also generates hope. Though he lives without hope of a future joy in this world, he does not live without the ultimate hope of his vindication. His confidence is rooted in God the redeemer (19:25-27):

            I know that my Redeemer lives,

                        and that in the end he will stand upon the earth

            And after my skin has been destroyed,

                        yet in my flesh I will see God;

            I myself will see him

                        with my own eyes — I, and not another.

            How my heart yearns within me!

This is a crucial text in book of Job. Some have seen Job’s confidence in a “Redeemer” as fulfilled in Jesus Christ who is the mediator, or legal advocate, between God and humanity (cf. 1 Tim. 2:5).[16] Others see his “Redeemer” as his own innocence and righteousness, that is, Job is his own legal advocate.[17] Such a chasm of interpretation underscores the difficulty of the text. But despite its difficulties, the expression of confidence is clear.

This text evidences three important points about Job’s faith. First, he has supreme confidence in redemption. His redeemer lives, and he will act on Job’s behalf. The redeemer, the one who stands as the deliverer of his people (cf. Exodus 6:6; 15:13; Psalms 74:2; 77:16), is the Living God.[18] Job is confident that the God who appears to be his enemy is also the God who will redeem him. Second, he believes in his ultimate vindication by the resurrection, or at least a restoration of communion with God after death.[19] Job understands that there will be some kind of encounter with God, whether resurrected or not, in which communion with God will find its fullest expression. Job expects to “see” God. He expects to experience a blissful communion with God. Indeed, at the end of the book, Job does “see” God (42:5). Third, this relationship with God is what he presently desires from the depths of his being. Whatever the difficulties of the text, this is a cry of faith. It expresses his yearning and his trusting. Even if Job’s confidence is that God will intervene to restore Job to his previous state of blessedness,[20] or whether it is simply the assertion of his innocence,[21] it is an expression of his trust in God’s redemption despite present circumstances. This cry does not deny his God. Rather, he yearns to see him. This yearning does not arise out of arrogance or self-righteousness. Job yearns to commune with God and to experience his friendship again.

Job has no illusions about his present state. He believes that God is angry with him, has made him his enemy and will never restore to him the peace and restfulness of this life. He calls and cries, even demands, a hearing. Yet, his only real confidence is that in death God will redeem him and restore this relationship. God, as his Redeemer, will encounter him after death, and there Job will see God.

Of course, Job wants that to happen now. But his suffering has clouded his perception of his relationship with God — he perceives God as his enemy when God is really his friend. Suffering has colored Job’s outlook. It colors everyone’s. Suffering does not permit us to see things clearly. While Job doubts and despairs about his present life, he has no doubt or despair about his ultimate life with God. He knows that his Redeemer lives; he knows that he has a witness and advocate in heaven. Even if God slays him now, Job trusts God. Job may have been knocked off balance by his suffering, but he was not toppled.

Job’s faith endured. He did not curse God. He maintained his integrity. He retained his hope. However, his enduring faith was mixed with doubt, despair, disappointment and sharp accusations. Yet, it was still faith. It was a struggle of faith, but it was a victorious faith. It was a faith that answered Satan’s accusation: Does Job serve God for profit? The answer is “No”. Indeed, when Job puts that question in the mouths of the scoffers he rejects it as the “counsel of the wicked” (21:16). Job does not serve God for profit. Rather, he trusts his God even when there appears to be no reason to trust him. That is the endurance of faith. Job teaches us the lesson of faithful endurance. Genuine faith is a faith that ultimately trusts and hopes in God even though it struggles through the mountains and valleys of doubt and despair. Job teaches us that genuine faith is not perfect faith. Rather, genuine faith is a faith that retains its integrity through the struggle. Genuine faith continues to trust. That is its integrity. That is the “patience” and the endurance of Job (James 5:11).

God Encounters Job

Throughout the discussion with his friends, Job first addressed his friends and then turned to address God. Both aspects of his speeches were full of complaint and accusation. The three friends answered Job until they concluded that Job was too full of arrogance to be won by argument (32:1). For the space of some 24 chapters the friends attempted to answer Job’s questions. They were answering, but God was not. God’s silence disconcerted and disillusioned Job. Did not God see his anguish? Did not God hear his pure prayers? Would not God answer?

Job had no illusions that if God spoke that he somehow would be able to escape the misery of his present life. He had no hope of happiness in this life (7:7). But he wanted a word from God even if it were a word of condemnation. Job simply wants to know something even if it is not what he wants to hear. He wants to know the charges against him (10:2; 13:23). He wants to understand the seeming moral chaos of the universe where the wicked prosper and the righteous suffer (21:7-26; 24:1-12). If God judges the wicked and charges them with evil, “why must those who know him look in vain for such days?” (24:1). Job challenges God, “Let the Almighty answer me” (31:35). Will God speak? Will he explain? If he does not, how can the righteous make sense of the prosperity of the wicked, the suffering of the righteous, and the chaotic state of the moral universe?

No doubt, to the shock and surprise of all the participants, God does speak. He comes to Job out of the whirlwind, out of the storm (38:1; 40:6). God is no longer silent, but does he answer? He speaks, but does he explain? That God spoke is one surprise, and what he said is yet another.

The text records two separate speeches by God (38:2-40:2 and 40:7-41:34), and gives two corresponding responses by Job (40:4-5; 42:1-6). Each of God’s speeches has the same pattern. First, God approaches Job with a challenge (38:2-3; 40:7-14). Second, God poses a series of questions to Job about the natural order and design of the world (38:4-39:30; 40:15-41:34). Third, God closes with a summary challenge (40:1-2). It is the first and third parts which reflect the approach that God takes to Job. How does God view Job? Does he regard him as a boisterous, self-righteous sinner who must be crushed by God’s power or does he regard him as an ignorant sufferer whose misery has pushed him to the brink of rivalry with God? I think he sees Job in the latter perspective. God confronts Job, but in mercy and grace not in wrath or anger. He confronts him with tough questions out of tough love, but Job is also God’s servant and God graciously appears to him.

But God’s answer is no answer. It does not answer Job’s questions. Why is life given to those in misery (3:20)? God does not answer. Why has God made Job his target (7:20)? God does not answer. Why did God hide his face from Job and count him as an enemy (13:24)? God does not answer. Why do the wicked prosper (21:7)? God does not answer. Why does not God set a time for judgment (24:1)? God does not answer. God does not provide an explanation for his moral government of the world and neither does he explain to Job why these tragedies have befallen him. God does not answer Job’s questions.

Instead, God engages Job in a personal dialogue that focuses on two primary points which parallel the two divine speeches. The first speech concerns God’s transcendent wisdom and care, and the second concerns God’s sovereignty over his creation, particularly over evil.

The first speech (38:1-40:2) is a series of questions about God’s role as transcendent creator in contrast to Job’s finitude and ignorance. Job had spoken about things he did not know, so God questions him about his role in the universe. “Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation” (38:4). God poses question after question, all reflecting his role as the creator and sovereign Lord of the cosmos. And with question after he question he prods Job to reflect on his own limitations. “Tell me, if you know all this” (38:18). The questions force Job to admit his own ignorance and remember his finite role in the cosmos.

But these questions also point to God’s wisdom and care. These are not simply questions about power. Their function is not simply to remind Job of God’s power, but also to remind him of God’s care and wisdom. The questions are not arbitrary; they move from God’s creative work when he laid the foundations of the world (38:4-7) and controlled the chaotic waters (38:8-11) to his transcendence over the chaos of the wicked and death (38:12-21), control over the waters (snow, rain, rivers) of the earth (38:22-30, 34-38), and his regulation of the stars and seasons (38:31-33). The questions then move to the animal kingdom and God’s management of his living creation. The questions are not just about knowledge but about care. God asks if Job “knows” (e.g., 39:1), but he also asks whether Job can manage this creation and care for it the way God does. Does Job hunt for the lion (38:39), feed the young ravens (38:41), give the wild donkey his home (39:6), use the wild ox in his service (39:9-12), care for the ostrich even though she has no sense (39:12-18), and give the horse his strength (39:19). God asks, “Does the hawk take flight by your wisdom” (39:26) or “does the eagle soar at your command?” (39:27). Through his power God manages his creation with wisdom and care. God’s creation is not the playground of his power but the nursery of his care. The world is not out of control, God is managing it quite nicely.

The second speech (40:6-41:34) is a series of questions about God’s control over chaotic forces. God challenges Job to manage this chaos and evil better than he does. “Do you have an arm like God?” (40:9). If so, they “unleash the fury of your wrath, look at every proud man and bring him low” (40:11) and “crush the wicked where they stand” (40:12). If you can manage evil in the world better than me, then “I myself will admit to you that your own right hand can save you” (40:14).

The animals “behemoth” (40:15) and “leviathan” (41:1) represent the evil and the chaos in the world. The former is a large land animal, but the later is some kind of sea creature. The language here is highly poetic and serves the point about God’s management of chaos and evil. Job cannot “crush the wicked” or bring the proud low, but God can. God controls even the behemoth which no one else can capture (40:19,24). God controls the leviathan which no else can handle (41:1-10). No other creatures are like these. No other creatures can control these animals. The behemoth is the “first” among God’s works (40:19), and the leviathan has no equal and “is king over all that are proud” (40:33-34). Evil reigns in the world. Chaos fills the earth. But God is still in control and everything belongs to him (41:11).

But how do these speeches answer Job’s questions? In one sense they are not answers. They do not specifically address the particulars of Job’s situation. God does not tell Job about the heavenly wager described in the prologue. The speeches do not address the issue of distributive justice and moral balance. God does not explain why the wicked prosper while Job suffers. The speeches do not address Job’s specific questions about suffering and justice. Rather, they address something more fundamental. They address the critical issue that was raised in the prologue and assumed throughout the dialogues: trust in God’s management of the world. Do we believe God is wisely managing his creation? This is what Job doubted, and this is what gave rise to the questions and accusations of his laments.

When evil surrounds us and chaos fills our life, then we begin to doubt God’s sovereignty (is God really in control?) or we doubt his goodness (does God really care?). We wonder whether God knows what he is doing or whether he can do anything at all. This occasions lament. We believe in God, just like Job, but the chaos of our lives creates doubt, despair and disappointment. So, we, like Job, complain, question, and accuse.

God’s answer is: I am in control, I care and I know what I am doing. Can you trust me? If I controlled the chaotic waters in creation, can I not manage the chaos of your life? If my care feeds the lions and the ravens, will I not care for you? If I can tame the leviathan who crushes the proud, can I not crush the chaos and evil in your life? God’s answer is his transcendence, but it is not a naked transcendence. It is not a sheer assertion of power. Rather, it a loving, caring transcendence which manages the chaos of the world for benevolent purposes. The question is whether Job can trust God’s management of his creation.

Job saw an answer in God’s answer. It was not the answer he sought, but it was sufficient for his needs. He confesses God’s transcendence and his own ignorance. Indeed, he offers God his praise. He confesses that there are things too “wonderful” for him to know or understand. The world is incomprehensible to him, but it is not to God. While God’s providence is unknown to him, he knows that no divine plan “can be thwarted” (42:2). Job responds to God’s dialogue with praise. It confesses the wonder of God’s providence and the inscrutability of his designs. Job’s lament turns to praise. He no longer questions or doubts, but he praises God. Through his encounter with God, he moves from complaint to praise.

Does Job “repent” and thus repudiate all that he has said in his laments? Does Job now retract all his questions? I do not think so. While the standard translation of Job 42:6 is something like the NIV, “Therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes,” this is not the best rendering. The term translated “despise” may also mean “melt.” It may refer to Job’s humility before God. The verb has no object in Hebrew so that it probably means something like “I humble myself before you.” The term translated “repent” means to “change one’s mind” or “reverse a decision about something” (Exodus 32:12,14; Jeremiah 18:8,10; Amos 7:3,6).[22] It does not necessarily mean to feel remorse about sin, or to confess guilt. Indeed, Job does not confess sin or regret. In fact, God judged that what Job had said was correct and that what the friends has said was erroneous (42:7). Instead of repenting of some sin, he changes his mind — he changes from lament to praise. He changes his approach to God. He gives up his lament. Job is saying, “I am comforted” or “I will no longer lament.” He will give up his “dust and ashes” — the “dust” of mourning (2:12) and the “ashes” of his tragic lament (2:8).

Job is comforted by his encounter with God.[23] The Hebrew term translated “repent” occurs seven times in Job (2:11; 7:13; 16:2; 21:34; 29:25; 42:6, 42:11). In every instance, unless 42:6 is the exception, it refers to comfort or consolation. In fact, Job’s three friends visit him for the purpose of offering comfort (2:11), but they are miserable comforters (16:2; 21:34). After God revealed himself, his friends and family again sought to comfort him (42:11). But in the midst of his tragedy Job could find no comfort, even in his nightly sleep (7:13). Job found no comfort until he encountered God. Job 42:6b perhaps should read something like “I am comforted by your presence in my dust and ashes.”

This parallels what happens in the lament Psalms. In response to a divine encounter, or a salvation oracle, the lamenter confesses “now I know. . .” (cf. Psalm 20:6; 59:9; 140:12; 41:11; 135:5). If Job is a “dramatic lament,” as Westermann argues, then the divine speeches are the “salvation oracle” and God encounters Job so that “now” Job sees God and submits to his presence. Job turns from lament to praise:[24]

42:5 contains the “solution” to the “problem” of Job. There is no other. God has answered Job. God has met Job. Insofar as Job attests to this, he attests to the reality of God in its wholeness. Now he knows God, and no longer just one aspect of God’s activity.

When God came near, when he engaged Job by his presence and by his revelation of himself, then Job was comforted. Then Job ceased his lament. Then Job learned to praise God again. The difference is the experience of God himself. While previously Job had only “heard” of God, now he had seen him (42:5). Job was comforted by the presence of God and he — if we retain the traditional translation though with a more appropriae meaning — “repented of his dust and ashes,” that is, he ceased his mourning and his heart turned to praise. Job had a “sanctuary experience,” and just as in the laments of Psalms, Job was moved by God’s presence to turn from lament to praise.

What is missing from the divine speeches is exactly what Job demanded. There is no list of charges. There is no indictment. There is no explanation of the suffering. There is no reasoned explanation of the seeming chaotic state of moral justice in the world. There is no defense of God’s justice. What answer can Job find in these speeches? How can we find in God’s speeches our answer?

If the speeches do not answer our questions, perhaps the problem is not the divine answer but the human questions. Or, more precisely, perhaps the divine answer is intended to underline the finite and limited character of the human questions. Perhaps God displays his knowledge in order that we might sense our ignorance and our finitude. Perhaps the answer is: “You’re not able to understand at this level, but you are capable of understanding my goodness and my sovereignty — so trust me!” Perhaps the answer is: “You cannot understand the answer I am capable of giving — so trust me!”

In fact, herein lies the answer. Human misery will always raise questions. It cannot help but do so. The emotional and spiritual lows of suffering will ask the questions. The intensity of suffering will bear the fruit of prolonged agony. It will ask, “Why?” It will wonder, “Where is God?” It will doubt, “Does he really care?” God does not condemn the questions. He does not even condemn the answers we often vent in the midst of suffering. God is patient with His people. But the answer lies in recognizing the distinction between God and humanity — between our questions and his character. The answer of God to Job is: “I understand your questions, but recognize your finitude; I understand your frustration, but recognize my faithfulness and care.” God’s answer to Job is his overwhelming, but comforting presence. Now Job “sees” God, and this is enough.

Throughout our questions, throughout our doubts and our pointed accusations, we must recognize that we speak from our finitude. We speak from the bottom of the bowl. We cannot see the full range of life and meaning. We do not have the perspective from which to judge all events. Our finitude is limiting. Our ignorance is debilitating. What must shine through, as it does in the words of Job, is an underlying trust in the goodness and faithfulness of God despite the outer circumstances. This is where we must bow before the transcendence of God.

In recognizing our limitations we understand that our perceptions of God are conditioned by our finitude and limited by our ignorance. The same can be said for the world around us, and especially God’s relationship to it. Thus, God did not humiliate Job or “blow him away” with his wrath which is what the friends expected. In this sense, Job himself was vindicated because the God who appeared to him was not the God his friends had imagined. On the contrary, God revealed himself as the transcendent God who wisely cares for his creation. Job encountered the transcendent God and bowed in humble submission before him as he confessed his own limitations. He encountered the living God and worshipped him.

We must learn to live by revelation rather than reasoned judgments about the relationship between God and humanity. We must learn to live by faith and not by sight. For in revelation God is not silent. He speaks, and he reveals himself in ways that assure us of his faithfulness and love. There we find the God who cares, loves and reigns. There we find God’s comforting presence. Only in the knowledge, contemplation and experience of that God can we come to endure misery with faith, integrity and hope.

Conclusion

                        For what hope has the godless when he is cut off,

                                    when God takes away his life?

                        Does God listen to his cry

                                    when distress comes upon him?

                        Will he find delight in the Almighty?

                                    Will he call upon God at all times?

                                                            Job 27:8-10.

Will believers continue to call upon God even when there is distress in their lives? Job believes the ungodly will cease their approach to God when distress comes. They will stop calling upon God in their despair. They have no other option than to sit in silence and face the nothingness. However, when believers are distressed, they cry to God. They call upon the name of God. Indeed, this is one reason why believers are sometimes caused distress or trouble by God. He intends to turn them to himself and prompt their return to him. God wants them to call on his name. The ungodly will reject God’s discipline and refuse to call on his name. But believers, like Job, will continue to call upon God and offer their prayers, though their prayers may be filled with questions, bitterness and doubt. Nevertheless, God’s faithful people cry out to him day and night (1 Kings 8:59: 2 Chronicles 6:20; Lamentations 2:18; Nehemiah 1:6; Jeremiah 9:1; Psalm 32:4; 42:3; Revelation 4:8; 7:15).

After the exile Zechariah interpreted the meaning of the wars that engulfed Judah before and during their exile. God declared that two-thirds of the land would be struck down and perish, and that the remaining third would be left in the land. God declared his intention for this third (Zechariah 13:8-9):

                        This third I will bring into the fire,

                                    I will refine them like silver

                                    and test them like gold.

                        They will call on my name

                                    and I will answer them;

                        I will say, “They are my people,”

                                    and they will say, “The Lord is our God.”

God tested his people and refined their faith through the exile. Those who were left in the land were put to the test through the distress of a devastated land. The people would then cry out and the Lord would answer them by renewing his covenant of love. God would fulfill his creative intent by again dwelling among his people as their God and they as his people. God would respond to the call of his people; he would answer their prayers. God tests his people to see if they will cry out to him in faith or whether they will rebel against his intentions and curse him. God tests his people to see what is in their hearts.

            The biblical concept of “calling” upon God or “calling on the name of the Lord” provides the backdrop of God’s testing.  It is the beginning of our salvation (“everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved,” Romans 10:13; cf. Acts 22:16) and it characterizes the whole of our life before God (2 Timothy 2:22; 1 Corinthians 1:2). It is the persistent prayer of the believer who calls upon God in every circumstance of life. The psalms mirror the pervasive character of this life of prayer. The term “call” or “cry out” is used fifty-nine times in Psalms. It is used in penitential hymns (Psalm 102:2; 130:1; cf. Joel 1:14, 19), in laments or complaints (Psalms 3:4; 4:1,3; cf. Lamentations 3:55, 57), in petitions or intercessions (Psalm 30:8; 34:6; cf. 1 Chronicles 4:10; 2 Chronicles 14:11) and in praises or thanksgivings (Psalm 105:1; 138:3; cf. 1 Chronicles 16:8). The people of God call on the name of the Lord. They offer him their thanksgivings, praises, petitions, confessions, laments and complaints. They are people who bow before God’s throne and seek his face. They are people who pour out their hearts before him and submit to his will. God’s people are a people of prayer. As God’s people, they expect that when they call God, in his faithfulness, will answer according to his mercy (Psalm 3:4; 4:1; 17:6; 20:9; 22:2; 27:7; 81:7; 86:7; 91:15; 99:6; 102:2; 118:5; 119:145; 120:1; 138:3; 1 Chronicles 21:26; Isaiah 58:9; 65:24; Jeremiah 33:3; Jonah 2:2; Zechariah 13:9).

What God expects of his people is that they constantly and consistently engage him in prayer. He expects his people to persistently call on his name, and God’s loving faithfulness means that he will respond in a manner consistent with his eschatological goal. God intends to have a people for himself and he himself is faithful to his goals, but the question is whether we will persist in prayer. When God’s eschatological goal is accomplished, “when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth” (Luke 18:8)? Will the people of God continue to engage God in persistent prayer with the confidence that God will act on behalf of his people who “cry out to him day and night” (Luke 18:7)?

            Believers, when they are burdened with the fallenness of this world, turn to God and make their burdens known. They petition, they cry for help and they ask questions. Believers turn to God in faith while the ungodly curse God and seek their own way. But when God’s people cry for help, rescue and deliverance they experience the anguish of faith.  It is a faith that trusts even when it seems as though God has become their enemy (Psalms 6, 44, 74, 88, 90).[25] The people of God call upon their God “day and night” (Nehemiah 1:6).


[1]Robert Alter, The Art of Biblical Poetry (New York: Basic Books, Inc., Publishers, 1985), pp. 76-84, provides an excellent literary discussion of Job 3 to which I am indebted.

[2]The Hebrew word for “why” only occurs in 3:11, 20, but the word is implied by the construction and context in 3:12,16,23.

[3]Job 1:10 and 3:23 use different Hebrew terms but the concept is the same.

[4]The same word as used in Proverbs 19:23. While the term literally means “evil,” it is often used of calamities and unfortunate disasters–even punishments (cf. Proverbs 5:19; 21:30; 31:29).

[5]The same word as used in Proverbs 28:14.

[6]The subtitle of Yancey’s book, Disappointment with God , is “Three Questions No One Asks Aloud.”

[7]Michael Brennan Dick, “The Legal Metaphor in Job 31,” Catholic Biblical Quarterly 41 (1979), 37-50; “Job 31, the Oath of Innocence, and the Sage,” Zeitschrift für Altestamentliche Wissenschaft 95 (1983), 31-53; Sylvia Hubermann Scholnick, “The Meaning of Mispat (Justice) in the Book of Job,” Journal of Biblical Literature 101 (1982), 521-29; “Poetry in the Courtroom: Job 38-41,” in Directions in Hebrew Poetry, ed. Elaine Follis (Sheffield: JSOT, 1987), 185-204;  J.J. Roberts, “Job’s Summons to Yahweh: The Exploration of a Legal Metaphor,” Restoration Quarterly 16 (1973), 159-165; and Norman Habel, The Book of Job:  A Commentary, Old Testament Library (Philadelphia:  Westminster Press, 1985), 54-57.

[8]Ludwig Köhler, Hebrew Man, trans. P. R.. Ackroyd (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1957), 134-39.

[9]Gerald Janzen, Job, Interpretation (Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1985), pp. 168-9.

[10]John E. Hartley, The Book of Job, The New International Commentary on the Old Testament (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1988), pp. 352-3. See also Anderson, Job, p. 214.

[11]This is a notoriously difficult verse to translate. The NIV footnote gives the alternative “He will surely slay me; I have no hope–yet I will…” The difficulty lies in the Hebrew construction. Does it mean “I have no hope” or “I will hope in him”? I have opted for the NIV text which Anderson, Job, p. 166, and David McKenna, Job, The Communicator’s Commentary (Waco, TX: Word, 1986), p. ???, defend. In either event, Job is confident about his vindication when he comes before God. The NIV footnote would mean something like: Whether God kills him or not, whether he has hope for future prosperity or not, he is certain that his innocence will be confirmed (cf. 13:18).

[12]Anderson, Job, p. 166.

[13]David J.A. Clines, Job 1-20, Word Biblical Commentary (Dallas: Word Books, Publisher, 1989), p. 333.

[14]Alden, Robert R. Job, New American Commentary (Nashville: Broadman Press, 1993), p. 168.

[15]Hartley, Job, p. 264.

[16]Roy B. Zuk, Job, Everyman’s Bible Commentary (Chicago: Moody Press, 1978), 92, p. and Alden, p. 207.

[17]Clines, Job, pp. 459-60.

[18]Hartley, Job, pp. 293-5.

[19]That Job speaks of a resurrection is controversial in contemporary scholarship. I will not take the time to defend this understanding except to point the reader to the fine explanations of Janzen, Job, pp. 142-45.

[20]Hartley, Job, p. 296.

[21]Clines, Job, p. 461.

[22]Dale Patrick, “Job’s Address of God,” Zeitschrift für die Altestamentliche Wissenschaft 91 (1979), 279-81. See his earlier article “The Translation of Job XLII 6,” Vetus Testamentum 26 (1976), 369-71, Habel, Job, p. 583, and Gustavo Gutiérrez, On Job: God-Talk and the Suffering of the Innocent, tran. by Matthew J. O’Connell (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1987), pp. 82-7.

[23]David Wolfers, Deep Things Out of Darkness (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1995), p. 461, translates 42:6 as “I am comforted.”  See also D.J. O’Conner, “Job’s Final Word — ‘I Am Consoled. . .” (42:6b), Irish Theological Quarterly 50 (1983/84), 181-97.

[24]Westermann, The Structure of the Book of Job, p. 128.

[25]Ingvar Fløsvik, When God Becomes My Enemy:  The Theology of the Complaint Psalms (Saint Louis:  Concordia Academic Press, 1997).


¿LA FE LUCHA ALGUNA VEZ?

June 24, 2024

LA RESISTENCIA FIEL DE JOB EN LA HISTORIA DE DIOS

                        ¿Qué es el hombre para que le des tanta importancia?

                                   que le prestes tanta atención,

                         que lo examines cada mañana

                                     y ponerlo a prueba en cada momento?

                        ¿Nunca apartarás la mirada de mí?

                                 ¿O dejarme en paz aunque sea por un instante?

                        Si he pecado, ¿qué te he hecho?

                                ¿Oh vigilante de los hombres?

                       ¿Por qué me has hecho tu objetivo?

                              ¿Me he convertido en una carga para ti?

                       ¿Por qué no perdonas mis ofensas?

                               y perdonar mis pecados?

                       Porque pronto me acostaré en el polvo;

                               Me buscaréis, pero ya no existiré.

                                                Job a Dios, Job 7:17-21

Aunque reconocemos intelectualmente que existe una diferencia entre la pérdida de un empleo y la pérdida de Job, el dolor del momento y las preguntas que se plantean ante Dios parecen disipar todos los grados de sufrimiento. Si bien todo sufrimiento es relativo (la muerte de un ser querido duele más que la pérdida de un trabajo; o, tal vez sea mejor decir que es un tipo diferente de dolor), la resistencia al sufrimiento nivela todo el sufrimiento al mismo plano. El sufrimiento más doloroso es el presente. El momento del sufrimiento se absolutiza en el sufrimiento mismo. Aunque podamos reconocer las distinciones intelectuales entre los diferentes tipos de sufrimiento, el dolor es emocional y espiritualmente indistinguible. Entonces, las preguntas que todos hacemos, las dudas que todos reflexionamos, son las mismas, sin importar cuál sea el sufrimiento. Son las mismas preguntas y dudas de Job. En consecuencia, el justo Job tiene algo que enseñarnos acerca de cómo soportar el sufrimiento. Mientras observamos a Job, observamos a una persona que pasó la prueba. Como resultado, aprendemos algo sobre la fe. Vemos uno a quien podemos emular.

La prueba de Job fue una lucha de fe. Pasó la prueba, pero no fue fácil. Abrió un camino de fe, pero no fue una tarea fácil. La historia de Job es la historia de un creyente que lucha con sus preguntas, dudas y desesperación. Muchos se identifican con esta lucha. Al mismo tiempo, su persistente negativa a maldecir a Dios es un ejemplo de fe. La prueba de Job es la prueba de todos los creyentes. Su victoria es la victoria de todos los creyentes. Por lo tanto, es importante observar a esta persona de fe luchar a través de su prueba para poder aprender algo sobre la naturaleza de la fe. La historia de Job revela algo sobre la naturaleza de la fe y el lamento, así como la naturaleza de nuestra relación con Dios en un mundo roto y asustado.

Job dirigió sus preguntas a Dios, el Gobernador providencial del universo. Preguntó a quien controla la naturaleza, a quien permite o provoca los acontecimientos naturales. Como resultado, la pregunta “por qué” es real y legítima. No se trata de un mero arrebato emocional ni de un desahogo de frustración. La pregunta es genuina y significativa. Si Dios interviene, si permite, si causa, Dios debe tener una razón. Dios no actúa arbitrariamente. Job lo sabía y quería saber la razón tal como nosotros queremos saber las razones de nuestros sufrimientos. En consecuencia, como Job, preguntamos “¿Por qué?”

Sin embargo, para la persona moderna y posmoderna, “¿Por qué?” Es más una exclamación que una pregunta. Es una declaración: “¡Qué cosa tan absurda y sin sentido ha sucedido!” Para Job, “¿Por qué?” Es una cuestión real para el Dios moral y soberano. Si bien es una exclamación, también pregunta: “¿Por qué Dios ha hecho esto?” Pregunta: “¿Por qué Dios permitió o provocó que sucediera algo tan sin sentido y sin sentido?” Pregunta: “¿Cuál es el significado de este sufrimiento?” Pregunta: “¿Cuál es su propósito?”

Pero la diferencia entre una mera exclamación y una verdadera pregunta es inmensa. El primero está lleno de emociones, pero no espera encontrar ningún significado real en el sufrimiento. Este último también es emocional, pero cree (tal vez esperando contra toda esperanza) que el sufrimiento tiene un significado real. Cree que hay una respuesta a la pregunta. Cree que todo sufrimiento tiene razón y propósito. El primero ve los desastres que traen sufrimiento como mera casualidad, casualidad o suerte. Este último considera que los desastres tienen un propósito divino. Cree que Dios tiene alguna buena razón para permitir o causar este dolor. ¿Son los desastres naturales el resultado de una casualidad o de un propósito divino (ya sea permisivo o causativo)? Frente al mal ¿cuál es la mejor alternativa? ¿Cuál es más significativo? En este capítulo veremos a Job plantear estas preguntas, veremos cómo Dios las responde y cómo sobrevive la fe.

El lamento de Job (3:1-26)

En su lamento inicial, Job no se dirige directamente a sus amigos ni a Dios como lo hace en el diálogo siguiente. Sin embargo, su lamento es para beneficio de ambos. Job expresa su desesperación. Es una denuncia poética que implícitamente se dirige a Dios.  Job se lamenta de no haber muerto antes de nacer (3:1-8). El día de su nacimiento nunca debería haber llegado. Ha sido para él un día sin alegría (3:7). Aunque su madre lo llevó a término, hubiera sido mejor haber nacido muerto que sufrir el problema actual (3:9-10). Job simplemente quiere morir ya que en la tumba podrá descansar de sus problemas. “Allí”, dice Job, “los cansados ​​descansan” (3:17). Los exiliados pueden disfrutar de la liberación del cautiverio en la tumba, y los esclavos pueden disfrutar de la libertad de sus amos (3:18-19). Pero Dios continúa dando luz a aquellos que, como Job, son miserables. Job es uno de los que se alegrarán de la muerte (3:20-22) porque será una liberación del sufrimiento. Pregunta: “¿Por qué se le da vida a un hombre cuyo camino está oculto, a quien Dios ha cercado?” (3:23). La vida no tiene nada más que ofrecerle a Job. No tiene “paz, ni quietud” ni “descanso, sino sólo confusión” (3:26). La única resolución que puede ver es la muerte. Sólo allí podrá encontrar paz y descansar de los problemas. Si bien se trata de un deseo de muerte, Job no contempla el suicidio. Sabe que sólo Dios tiene el derecho de dar y tomar el aliento de vida (12:10; cf. 1:21). Job no usará su propia mano para usurpar lo que pertenece únicamente a las manos de Dios. Más bien, Job lamenta sus circunstancias actuales. Desde el punto de vista del basurero, hubiera sido mejor no haber visto nunca la vida que haber sufrido como lo ha hecho. Job invierte el dicho: “Es mejor haber amado y perdido que no haber amado nunca”. Job cree que es mejor no haber amado nunca que haber amado y perdido. Esta es la profundidad del dolor de Job.

La actitud de queja queda clara en el constante cuestionamiento. La palabra más significativa y expresiva para cualquier persona que esta lidiando con sufrimiento se repite cinco veces (NVI, NRSV) en este breve lamento.  Es la palabra “por qué”. “¿Por qué no morí al nacer?” (3:11a). “¿Por qué había rodillas para recibirme y pechos para que pudiera ser amamantado?” (3:12). “¿Por qué no me escondieron en la tierra como un niño que nació muerto?” (3:16a). “¿Por qué se da luz a los afligidos y vida a los amargados de alma?” (3:20). “¿Por qué se le da la vida al hombre cuyo camino está oculto, a quien Dios ha cercado?” (3:23). Job equipara la vida con la miseria y la amargura. Dado que el útero no cerró sus puertas, ahora hay “problemas” ante sus ojos (3:10, 20). Mejor son la muerte y las tinieblas en el Sheol que la miseria y los problemas. Sin embargo, Job hace una pregunta real. Quiere saber “por qué” y sabe que Dios tiene la respuesta. La pregunta de Job es el lamento de una persona desesperada, alguien que cree que sería mejor estar muerto que continuar con su existencia problemática. No cree que tenga nada que pueda esperar. Como exclama en 7:7, “mis ojos nunca más verán la felicidad”. La muerte es la mejor perspectiva para Job, pero, como alguien que la anhela, ésta no llega (3:21). Pero aunque la pregunta “por qué” es la expresión de la desesperación, también es, como se desprende claramente del próximo diálogo, una pregunta viva. Job quiere una respuesta.

En un giro de ironía, Job cree que Dios lo ha “cercado” (3:23) cuando, de hecho, Dios simplemente ha restringido el “cerco” que lo protegía (1:10).  La naturaleza de la cobertura depende de la perspectiva de cada uno. Para Job, Dios se ha derrumbado sobre él, rodeándolo con un cerco confinado. Esta es la perspectiva de cada víctima. Por supuesto, tiene razón en que Dios es responsable de su condición. El problema, sin embargo, es que el sufrimiento de Job se interpreta como algún tipo de acción hostil por parte de Dios. El prólogo, por otro lado, ve el cerco de Dios como su protección para Job, una protección que todavía está intacta hasta cierto punto. Satanás está restringido. Dios ha protegido la vida de Job; no permitirá que Satanás se la quite. Pero desde la perspectiva de Job eso no es ninguna protección. Más bien, prolonga el sufrimiento. Irónicamente, Job quiere eliminar incluso esa barrera. Job quiere alivio. No lo espera en esta vida, por eso quiere la muerte. Sin embargo, eso es precisamente lo que Dios no permitirá. El mismo cerco que Dios tiene alrededor de Job es lo que Job quiere eliminar. Por lo tanto, Job está frustrado, preocupado y afligido. Es mejor estar muerto, piensa Job, que continuar con su dolorosa existencia.

El lamento de Job refleja su sufrimiento actual. Expresa su dolor, desilusión y desesperanza. Quienes lo padecen se preguntan “por qué” sufren. Piensan en cómo era antes y si valió la pena nacer. Piensan que la muerte (por más horrible que sea) sería mejor que lo que sienten actualmente. No hay descanso tranquilo en la vida del que sufre en el momento del sufrimiento. Mientras los creyentes se sientan en el montón de basura, la única respuesta es el lamento fiel que espera que Dios les hable de consuelo.

El problema

Job sabe que es inocente. También sabe que la mano de Dios ha hecho esto. El problema es la justicia. Dios no parece estar siguiendo sus propias reglas. Los amigos de Job podrían llegar a la simple conclusión de que Job es un hipócrita arrogante. Si bien pueden razonar que Dios está aplicando justamente sus reglas para que Job sea castigado por sus pecados, Job lo sabe mejor. No puede sucumbir a una respuesta tan simplista. Hacerlo sería negar su propia integridad.

Como lectores, entendemos el problema de Job. Job conoce, y nosotros conocemos, su integridad. Sabe que es el siervo justo de Dios, como Dios mismo lo indicó en el prólogo (1:1,8; 2:3). Sin embargo, sufre el destino de los malvados. No tiene otra opción que preguntarse acerca de la justicia de Dios. No puede descartar lo que le ha sucedido como meras coincidencias o “mala suerte”. No puede creer que Dios no haya estado involucrado en absoluto. Pero tampoco puede negar su propia integridad. Se pregunta acerca del “mal” (o problema) que le ha sobrevenido cuando ese problema sólo pertenece a los malvados. Después de todo, es el “destino” del impío lo que ahora sufre (27:13). Job tiene detrás de sí toda la tradición de sabiduría: la gente cosecha lo que siembra. Sin embargo, es necesario ajustar su interpretación tradicional de ese principio o su comprensión tradicional de Dios. En medio de su sufrimiento, le resulta difícil adaptarse a cualquiera de los dos. En consecuencia, su fe le lleva más al lamento que a precisas diatribas teológicas. Evoca lamentación en lugar de una discusión teológica sofisticada.

La literatura de sabiduría bíblica generalmente apoya la sabiduría tradicional de los amigos. Por ejemplo, Proverbios 19:23 dice: “El temor de Jehová lleva a la vida; entonces uno descansa contento, sin verse afectado por las dificultades”. Nuevamente, Proverbios 28:14, “Bienaventurado el hombre que siempre teme a Jehová, pero el que endurece su corazón cae en la angustia”. Según esta tradición bíblica, la persona que teme a Dios está libre de problemas. Esto agravó la situación de Job. Reconoció que había recibido “aflicciones” (literalmente, maldad) de Dios (2:10; 30:26).  El escritor del prólogo y del epílogo reconoció que este problema había venido del Señor (2:11; 42:11).  De hecho, el epílogo es bastante explícito al referirse a “la angustia que Jehová había traído sobre él” (42:11). El problema es agudo: ¿cómo puede Dios darle a Job el “problema” que propiamente pertenece a los malvados cuando él, según la propia admisión de Dios, no es malvado? Si la sabiduría promete bendiciones para los justos en lugar de problemas, ¿por qué sufre Job problemas cuando es justo? La difícil situación de Job parece ir en contra de la comprensión tradicional y bíblica de cómo Dios dirige su universo. La justicia de Dios está en juego.

Job inicialmente hace la pregunta que todos los que sufren: “¿Por qué?” La pregunta surge de una intensa agonía y desilusión. Todos los que sufren pueden sentir empatía. La pregunta busca a tientas el significado del sufrimiento. Job piensa, al igual que nosotros, que saber por qué disminuirá el dolor y proporcionará la motivación para resistir. Eso es parte de su desilusión. ¿Existe realmente alguna razón finita que pueda justificar el sufrimiento que soporta Job? ¿Existe alguna razón humana que pueda dar sentido a la muerte de sus hijos? Job no ve ninguna buena razón. En consecuencia, cuestiona. Si el final de su vida es este tipo de sufrimiento, Job pregunta “¿por qué” fue sacado del útero (10:18)? Si esta es la naturaleza de su sufrimiento, quiere saber “por qué” Dios lo ha convertido en blanco de sus flechas (7:20). Si es inocente y no merece este sufrimiento, Job quiere saber “¿por qué” Dios se ha convertido en su enemigo (13:24)? La pregunta “por qué” subraya la perplejidad que siente Job. Está desconcertado por las circunstancias: es una persona justa que está sufriendo terriblemente. Si pudiera saber por qué, si pudiera saber la razón, entonces tal vez podría comprender y soportar la carga. Pero su ignorancia genera confusión y desilusión.

Los “por qué” de Job se convierten en amargas quejas. Su constante cuestionamiento de Dios no recibe respuesta excepto los ataques punzantes de sus posibles consoladores. Saben por qué: Job ha cometido un gran pecado. Pero Job no puede aceptar esa respuesta; él lo sabe mejor. Sin embargo, no recibe respuesta de aquel a quien ha dirigido la pregunta. Dios no responde. El no habla. Dios guarda silencio y esto aumenta la frustración de Job. Job se impacienta y sus preguntas se convierten en amargas quejas.

En respuesta a Elifaz, ruge firmemente que no se sentará en manso silencio y soportará su castigo. Job clama: “No callaré; hablaré en la angustia de mi espíritu, me quejaré en la amargura de mi alma” (7:11). Cuando Bildad afirma que Dios no rechaza a una persona inocente sino que castiga a los malvados (8:20), las preguntas profundamente sentidas de Job se convierten en afirmaciones frustrantes. Él responde: “Aborrezco mi vida; por eso daré rienda suelta a mi queja y hablaré en la amargura de mi alma” (10:1). Cuando Elifaz ofrece la esperanza de restauración después del arrepentimiento y la justicia (22:22-30), Job no cederá ni renunciará a lo único que le queda: su integridad. Afirma: “Aún hoy mi queja es amarga” (23:2a).

En estos tres textos (7:11; 10:1; 23:2) donde “queja” y “amargura” se combinan para expresar los sentimientos de Job (los únicos lugares en el canon hebreo donde ocurren juntos), Job está desahogando su frustración. Mientras piensa y reconsidera su relación con Dios, su único recurso es presentar una denuncia contra él. Esta queja está envuelta en amargura. “Olvidar” la queja no le libra del sufrimiento (9:27,28). Con mucho gusto renunciaría a la queja si Dios le aliviara el sufrimiento o al menos le explicara. Pero el dolor combinado con el silencio de Dios lo empuja a insistir aún más en su denuncia.

Job finalmente comienza a acusar a Dios de injusticia. ¿Es realmente justo que Job sufra de esta manera? ¿Qué razón podría dar Dios que justificaría el trato que dio a Job? Dado que Job no puede evitar la pregunta “¿Por qué?” y no ve ninguna buena razón para el sufrimiento; sólo puede luchar con el pensamiento imposible de que Dios es injusto. Cuestiona la justicia de Dios. Por supuesto, Job sabe que no debe cuestionar la justicia de Dios, pero desde el punto de vista del montón de basura, Job no puede imaginar otra alternativa. Está de acuerdo con Bildad, quien plantea las preguntas retóricas: “¿Pervierte Dios la justicia? ¿Pervierte el Todopoderoso lo que es correcto?” (8:4). No, no lo hace, estaría de acuerdo Job. Pero Job está confundido. Es justo pero sufre intensamente. Job debe pensar lo impensable. ¿Será posible que Dios sea injusto y se divierta con la miseria y confusión de sus criaturas? ¿Dónde está el Dios de justicia en el sufrimiento de Job?

Job se da cuenta de que, en última instancia, no puede desmantelar ni socavar la justicia de Dios. Dios “no es hombre como yo para responderle, para enfrentarnos en el tribunal” (9:32). Si Job quiere interrogar a Dios sobre su justicia, “¿quién lo convocará” (9:19)? ¿Qué hombre impuro se justificará ante el Puro y disputará su justicia (14:3,4a)? La respuesta es: “¡Nadie!” (14:4b). Sin embargo, a pesar del reconocimiento teológico de Job de que no es rival para el Dios Todopoderoso, su sufrimiento lo lleva a desahogar su frustración y su ira acusando a Dios de injusticia, planteando preguntas impensables. Éstas son las preguntas que nadie se atreve a plantear, pero que todo el mundo sí se plantea. 

En el capítulo diecinueve, Job se siente particularmente frustrado tanto con sus amigos como con Dios. Acusa a sus amigos de traición. En esta dolorosa explosión, expresa su desilusión (19,5-7):

                        Si en verdad se creen mejor que yo,

                                    y usa mi humillación contra mí,

                        Entonces sé que Dios me ha hecho mal.

                                    y me rodeó con su red.

                        Aunque lloro: “¡Me han hecho daño!”

                                    No obtengo respuesta;

                        aunque pido ayuda,

                                    no hay justicia.

Este pasaje responde a la pregunta de Bildad: “¿Pervierte Dios la justicia?” (8:4). Job responde que Dios le ha “hecho daño” de modo que no recibe “justicia”. El verbo “agraviado” (traducido “pervertido” en 8:4) y el sustantivo “justicia” son los mismos términos que usó Bildad. Dada su experiencia, Job sabe que Bildad está equivocado.  La justicia de Dios no significa que sólo los malvados sufran. El propio Job es una víctima inocente. “No hay justicia” resuena en los oídos de todos los que sufren en medio de su sufrimiento. Todos pueden sentir empatía con esta exclamación. Todos lo hemos sentido incluso si no lo hemos expresado con tanta valentía como lo hace Job aquí. Job, como todos nosotros, ve un grave problema con la justicia de Dios en relación con el sufrimiento inocente. Su experiencia afirma existencialmente lo que sabe que es teológicamente imposible. El momento existencial del que sufre es algo mucho más poderoso que el reflejo intelectual y teológico de tiempos más felices. En este contexto, y mientras el diálogo llega a su clímax, Job, en el marco de un juramento, afirma enfáticamente que Dios “me ha negado la justicia” (27:2).

El que sufre, y Job es un ejemplo fundamental, no ve ninguna buena razón para su sufrimiento. Donde pueda encontrar una buena razón, reconocerá la mano de Dios como castigo o disciplina, o incluso como redención. Pero rara vez se logra encontrar buenas razones en el momento del sufrimiento. Es posible que lo encontremos en retrospectiva, pero incluso entonces una buena razón suele ser difícil de alcanzar y rara vez se encuentra. Hay algunas cosas, muchas cosas, que aparentemente desafían cualquier esperanza de encontrar “buenas razones”. El momento del sufrimiento, sin embargo, no puede discernirlos aunque estén ahí. La frustración natural del creyente, entonces, se desahoga en una queja ante Dios. Incluso el justo Job, el hombre a quien Dios reconoció como el mejor de la Tierra, no pudo escapar de esos sentimientos. En el momento de dolor, en el fragor del diálogo, Job no ve otra alternativa que concluir que Dios le ha negado la justicia.

En el contexto de la sabiduría tradicional es comprensible que Job planteara ciertas preguntas sobre su situación. Su primera pregunta es “¿Por qué?” Su segunda pregunta es “¿Es justo?” Sus preguntas estuvieron acompañadas de súplicas y peticiones.  Finalmente, sus súplicas se convirtieron en demandas. En particular, exigió una audiencia con Dios mismo. Quería una lista de cargos y un juicio para establecer su inocencia. Esta exigencia empuja a Job a utilizar una “metáfora legal”.”[1]

La metáfora Legal

De hecho, Job ya estaba siendo juzgado. Köhler ha sugerido que todo el diálogo (Job 3-27) muestra los procedimientos formales de una asamblea legal a las puertas.[2] De hecho, Job ya estaba siendo juzgado. Köhler ha sugerido que todo el diálogo (Job 3-27) muestra los procedimientos formales de una asamblea legal a las puertas. Puesto que Job se sintió agraviado, quiso que se juzgara su caso. O sus amigos deben presentar cargos específicos contra él o él debe escucharlos de Dios. La acusación de Satanás fue continuada por sus propios amigos. Job está harto de sus amigos y sabe que su único recurso es presentar su caso a Dios. Les dice a sus amigos: “Lo que vosotros sabéis, yo lo sé; no soy inferior a vosotros. Pero deseo hablar al Todopoderoso y argumentar mi caso ante Dios” (13:2,3). Los amigos deben estar tranquilos y él se presentará ante Dios si Dios lo llama. Él desafía a los amigos: “¿Alguien puede acusarme? Si es así, callaré y moriré” (13:19). Job quiere hablar y luego quiere que Dios le responda (13:22). Quiere la lista de pecados que ha cometido y que han resultado en este problema. “¿Cuántos errores y pecados he cometido?” él pide. “Muéstrame mi transgresión y mi pecado” (13:23). Pide a Dios que retire su “mano” de él y que “deje de asustarlo” con “terrores” (13,21). Pide a Dios que lo llame a su presencia para que pueda hablar y escuchar la respuesta de Dios (13:22).

Por supuesto, tanto Job como Dios, así como el lector, saben que no existe una lista de pecados. Dios no tiene ninguna acusación contra Job. Satanás es el acusador y Dios es el defensor. Dios refuta la acusación de Satanás mediante la fe de Job. Dios tiene confianza en su siervo.

Job cree que, dado su día en el tribunal, “allí un hombre recto presentaría su caso ante él” y sería “liberado” (23:7). Para que no entendamos mal, debemos notar que la confianza de Job está en su integridad, no en su impecabilidad. Job admite los “pecados de [su] juventud” (13:26). Pero él protesta por su inocencia a la luz de su integridad ante Dios. Este es el quid de la prueba: Dios busca corazones auténticos que se acerquen a Él con fe. Incluso en medio de su sufrimiento, Job siguió siendo un discípulo de Dios, atesoró sus palabras y guardó sus mandamientos. Aunque sufrió bajo la carga de la mano de Dios (23:1), permaneció comprometido con Dios. Su credo es firme (23:10-12):

                        Pero él sabe el camino que tomo,

                                    cuando me haya puesto a prueba,

                                                Saldré como oro.

                        Mis pies han seguido de cerca sus pasos,

                                    He seguido su camino sin desviarme.

                        No me he apartado de los mandamientos de sus labios,

                                    He atesorado las palabras de su boca

                                                más que mi pan de cada día.

Reprendiendo la implicación de Elifaz de que Job había dado la espalda a las instrucciones de Dios (22:22), Job responde que nunca ha rechazado las palabras de Dios. Al contrario, siempre los ha atesorado más que el pan mismo (cf. Deuteronomio 8,3; Mateo 4,4). Job confía en que cuando Dios termine de probarlo en esta oscuridad, saldrá del fuego como oro. En medio de su prueba, el sufrimiento no llevó a Job al límite para aceptar el consejo de sus amigos – a profesar una autoincriminación falsa (19:4-6) – ni el consejo de los malvados a admitir que servir Dios es inútil (21:16). Dios, entonces, debería decidir justamente a su favor. Dios debería estar complacido con su perseverancia fiel, y sabemos por el epílogo que Dios estaba tan complacido (42:7-9).

El problema de Job es que no puede encontrar a Dios. En presencia de Dios podría exponer su queja y hacer que se actuara en consecuencia, pero ¿dónde está la presencia de Dios en este sufrimiento? Dondequiera que mire, Dios no está allí (23:8, 9). Dios no le responde. No viene a él. Dios guarda silencio. De hecho, Job está perplejo por el ocultamiento de Dios. “¿Por qué”, pregunta, “escondes tu rostro y me consideras tu enemigo?” (13:24). “¿Por qué”, pregunta, “el Todopoderoso no fija tiempos para el juicio? ¿Por qué aquellos que lo conocen deben esperar en vano esos días?” (23:1). En otras palabras, ¿por qué Dios no actúa para arreglar el mundo y reparar sus injusticias?  El silencio de Dios le hace parecer apático, tanto ante las trágicas circunstancias de sus santos (como Job) como ante la prosperidad de los malvados. Cuando los pobres están oprimidos y pasan hambre (24:4-5), Dios guarda silencio. Cuando los hijos de los pobres son apresados ​​para pagar sus deudas (24:9), Dios guarda silencio. Cuando los asesinos, ladrones y adúlteros saquean a la humanidad (24:14-15), Dios guarda silencio. “Dios a nadie acusa de maldad” (24:12).

Aunque Dios guarde silencio, Job no permanecerá así. Invoca una maldición sobre los malvados y pide a Dios que los juzgue.  Aunque Dios guarda silencio, Job confía en que los “ojos de Dios están puestos en sus caminos” (24:23), así como Dios conoce el “camino” de Job (23:11). Job invoca una imprecación (una maldición sobre los malvados) con la esperanza de que Dios ya no guarde silencio. Dios, en última instancia, es el único que puede rectificar la situación. Sólo él puede condenar a los malvados y redimir a los justos (24:22). Por lo tanto, Job busca una audiencia con Dios para discutir la naturaleza caída de su universo. Busca una explicación de por qué lo tratan como si fuera malvado y por qué a los malvados se les trata como si fueran justos. De una cosa está seguro Job: Dios “hace lo que quiere” (23:13). ¿Por qué entonces no hace lo que es justo?

 Después de que sus amigos guardaron silencio, después de que renunciaron a la conversión de Job, Job da una declaración extensa de su caso. Los capítulos 29-31 funcionan como el escrito legal de Job en la sala del tribunal divino donde hace suyo el caso de su integridad. Es su denuncia legal. El clímax de este enfoque legal es esta audaz súplica (31:35-37):

                        ¡Oh, si tuviera alguien que me escuchara!

                                    Firmo ahora mi defensa. 

                                    que el Todopoderoso me responda;

                                    Que mi acusador ponga por escrito su acusación.

                        Seguramente lo llevaría al hombro,

                                    Me lo pondría como una corona.

                        Le daría cuenta de cada uno de mis pasos;

                                    como un príncipe me acercaría a él.

Job ha presentado su caso. Ha contado una historia de su situación. Su circunstancia ha pasado de la bendición (29) al sufrimiento (30). Ha afirmado su estilo de vida ético (31). Ahora quiere que Dios le dé la acusación. Quiere saber los cargos exactos en su contra. ¿Cuál es el pecado que permite que la justicia de Dios le haga sufrir tan intensamente? Si no existe tal pecado, como sostiene Job, entonces Job debería ser absuelto. Pero la absolución de Job es la acusación de Dios. Si Job no merece su sufrimiento, ¿qué derecho tenía Dios de imponérselo? Job tiene confianza en su caso. Él conoce su integridad. Se acercará a Dios “como un príncipe” porque una vez que conozca las acusaciones, estará seguro de poder responderlas. Confía en su absolución. El problema de Job no es la superioridad moral, sino la ignorancia. Job conoce su propia integridad, pero no conoce el prólogo. Conoce su integridad, pero no conoce los propósitos de Dios ni cómo obra.

La Victoria de Fe

A pesar de su ignorancia del prólogo, las preguntas de Job no son simplistas ni ilusorias. Son duros y reales. Su desesperación no es un obstáculo momentáneo, sino el fondo de un profundo barranco. El sufrimiento ha evocado pensamientos deprimentes (Dios como enemigo, 19:11), acusaciones severas (Dios lo ataca con ira, 16:6) y quejas amargas (7:11). Job ha perdido la esperanza de volver a ver la felicidad (7:7). Se desespera por la pérdida de todos sus sueños y metas (17:11). Anhela la tumba donde pueda encontrar paz y descanso (17:13ss). Sin embargo, ¡este es Job “paciente”! No es paciente en el sentido de algún tipo de aquiescencia sentimental autoimpuesta. De hecho, Job admite su propia “impaciencia” cuando se trata de las frustraciones de su experiencia (21:4). Más bien, es paciente como quien continúa confiando en Dios. Job no es conocido por su “paciencia”, sino por su fe duradera. Este es precisamente el punto que señala Santiago: Job fue un ejemplo de paciencia (Santiago 5:11). Él es el ejemplo supremo de una fe duradera. Pero ¿puede una persona de fe acusar a Dios? ¿Puede una persona de fe desesperarse? ¿Puede una persona de fe perder la esperanza del gozo en esta vida? Job hizo las tres cosas.

Lo que vemos en Job es la lucha de la fe: la lucha por creer a pesar de las circunstancias que lo rodean. Cree incluso cuando parece que no hay razón para creer. La esposa de Job pensó que la mejor resolución era maldecir a Dios y morir (2:9). Pero ésta era la esencia de la prueba. ¿Creerá Job incluso cuando no tenga motivos para creer? ¿Mantendrá su integridad donde no hay ganancia ni beneficio? Le fue arrebatado todo material, físico y emocional. ¿Mantendrá Job su integridad y su temor de Dios, incluso en esta circunstancia desesperada? La respuesta a lo largo del diálogo del libro es un rotundo “¡Sí!”

A lo largo de sus vacilaciones entre la desesperación y la ira, entre la duda y el terror, Job mantuvo una confianza implícita en el Dios del universo. Job no negaría su integridad, pero tampoco maldeciría a su Dios. Confió en Dios y continuó esperando en él. Varios textos ofrecen una ventana a la fe de Job.

Job 13-14

En el capítulo 13, Job reprende a sus amigos por hablar malvadamente en nombre de Dios. Sus amigos mostraron “parcialidad” hacia Dios, o hablaron “engañosamente por él” (13:7-8). Job exige su silencio ya que no les iría mejor que a él si Dios los examinara (13:9-12). Deben guardar silencio, pero Job debe hablar. No puede reprimir sus miedos y malentendidos. Debe acercarse a Dios (13:13-14, 16). Esta es una perspectiva aterradora: presentarse ante Dios y defender la propia integridad para acusarlo de injusticia. Sin embargo, es comprensible porque la oración a menudo se convierte en el medio para eso mismo. El lamento como oración se convierte a menudo en el medio por el cual los fieles dan rienda suelta a sus sentimientos, dudas y frustraciones. Lamento clama a Dios por la caída del mundo y, a menudo, se queja del sufrimiento de los justos. Pero es esta oración de lamento con la que Job afirma su fe en el Dios trascendente. el confiesa (13:15-16):[3]

            Aunque él me mate, en él esperaré;

                        Seguramente defenderé mis caminos en su cara.

            En verdad, esto resultará para mi liberación,

                        ¡Porque ningún impío se atrevería a presentarse ante él!

La fe y la esperanza van juntas. De hecho, la palabra esperanza aquí a veces se traduce como confianza. El verbo simplemente significa esperar o demorarse, y aquí claramente conlleva el sentido de confianza/esperanza/fe. Job está decidido a exponer, e incluso defender, su caso ante Dios. Sabe que un resultado posible es la muerte o la expulsión de la presencia de Dios (el término “matar” es el acto de Dios contra los malvados, como en Salmo 139:19). Pero su fe seguirá descansando en Dios. Él esperará en Dios. Él confía en Dios pase lo que pase. No puede encontrar a nadie más en quien confiar. Anderson comenta que “este discurso expresa la mayor confianza de Job tanto en su inocencia como en la justicia de Dios”[4]. Incluso si Dios actuara de una manera que parece ser injusta, es decir, matarlo, Job seguirá poniendo su esperanza en Dios. Cuando todo está perdido, ¿en quién más puede confiar? ¿En quién más hay en quien confiar? Como dijo Pedro a Jesús: “¿A quién iremos? Tú tienes palabras de vida eterna” (Juan 6:68).

La profunda fe de Job se vuelve a ver en ese mismo discurso (12-14). Job ve esperanza en la comunión de Dios con él después de la muerte. Job está listo para descender a la tumba sin reivindicación (14:13), pero espera recibir “renovación” o “liberación” (14:14) cuando Dios lo llame y se haga cargo de sus pecados. Dios sellará sus transgresiones con el perdón (14:17). Entonces recibirá vindicación. Sin embargo, Job reconoce que debe “esperar” (la misma palabra que en 13:15) hasta que llegue ese momento (14:14). Una vez pasada la prueba de Dios, Dios renovará el compañerismo y restaurará la relación con Job. Dios llamará y Job responderá. Éste es el lenguaje de la relación personal, de una “comunión renovada” entre Dios y Job.[5] Puede ser que Job espere aquí algún tipo de reivindicación escatológica. Ciertamente espera un día en el que, en palabras de Alden, “experimente la ‘renovación’ (v. 14), converse con Dios y sus pecados sean perdonados y olvidados”[6]

Job cree que la justicia debe encontrar expresión en alguna parte. Dios volverá a considerarlo su amigo. En algún momento Dios debe arreglar el mundo nuevamente; debe renovarlo. En algún momento, Dios reivindicará la inocencia de Job. La muerte tiene tal carácter definitivo que Job no espera regresar a su comunidad después de la muerte (14:7-12). No espera que su reivindicación sea una reanimación que le devuelva a su bendita existencia anterior. Semejante reanimación lo reivindicaría ante sus amigos que con tanta insistencia lo acusan, pero esa no es su esperanza explícita. Sin embargo, no espera que su muerte sea el acto final del drama de Dios. Cree que después de la muerte, Dios lo reivindicará. El acto final en la historia de Job será la reivindicación y la restauración, incluso si muere en su condición actual. Job esperará en Dios para esta renovación. Lo espera porque confía en Dios

Job 16-17

El capítulo 16 también contiene una expresión de fe que trasciende la desesperación del momento. Job ha rechazado a sus amigos calificándolos de “consoladores miserables” (16:2). No pueden empatizar con él. El dolor de Job se intensifica cuando reflexiona sobre cómo Dios lo ha atacado como un león que desgarra su presa (16:6, 9). Dios lo entregó a personas malvadas (16:11), devastó su casa (16:7) y lo convirtió en el blanco de su objetivo (16:12-13). El resultado es que Job está de luto amargo (16:15) y clama: “Mi espíritu está quebrantado, mis días se acortan, el sepulcro me espera” (17:1). Job no cree que vivirá para experimentar su propia reivindicación ante sus pares (17:13-16). Sin embargo, en su dolor no ha pecado; su oración es pura (16:17). Está comprometido con el camino de los justos (17:6-9). En este contexto, Job reflexiona sobre su esperanza. A pesar de que parezca lo contrario, Job cree que tiene un “testigo” en el cielo o un “abogado” que intercederá por él (16:18-21):

            Oh tierra, no cubras mi sangre;

                        ¡Que mi llanto nunca descanse!

            Incluso ahora mi testimonio está en el cielo;

                        mi abogado está en lo alto.

            Mi intercesor es mi amigo.

                        mientras mis ojos derraman lágrimas hacia Dios;

            en nombre de un hombre suplica a Dios

                        como un hombre suplica por su amigo.

Anteriormente Job había pedido un mediador que pusiera una mano sobre Dios y otra sobre él para que su relación pudiera ser restaurada (9:33). Aquí, sin embargo, expresa la confianza de que tiene un intercesor que defiende su caso. Ha pasado de pedir un árbitro imparcial a confiar en un abogado, un intercesor. Quienquiera que sea este intercesor, en él pone Job su esperanza. Job espera la restauración de la relación con Dios a través de esta intercesión. Sus dudas y preguntas no lo llevan al punto de la desesperación definitiva. Se desespera pero tiene esperanza. Se queja, pero confía en que Dios volverá a comunicarse con él.

Su clamor en 16:18 es un clamor de venganza por la sangre derramada, muy parecido a como la tierra clamó por venganza por la sangre derramada de Abel (Génesis 4:10), o los santos bajo el altar de Dios clamaron por venganza por la sangre derramada. sangre de los mártires (Apocalipsis 6:10). La sangre de Job no debe ser cubierta. Al contrario, es necesario revertir esta tragedia. Hay que hacer justicia, y sólo quien está “en el cielo” o “en lo alto” puede realizar esta venganza. ¿A quién tiene en mente Job aquí? Hartley responde bien a la pregunta.:[7]

Considerando los diversos pasajes en los que Job piensa en defender su caso ante Dios, el mejor candidato para defensor que se puede encontrar es Dios mismo… Aquí Job apela a la santa integridad de Dios al expresar su sincera esperanza de que Dios testifique de la verdad. de sus afirmaciones de inocencia, aunque tal testimonio parezca contradecir las propias acciones de Dios. Ese riesgo es la esencia de la fe. Por un momento Job ve a Dios como su firme partidario. En esta súplica, él expresa la confianza que Dios había expresado en él en el prólogo porque está atravesando la pantalla de sus problemas hacia el Dios real. Básicamente, no está enfrentando a Dios contra Dios; más bien está afirmando una confianza genuina en Dios sin importar la forma en que Dios lo esté tratando. Dado que Job, a diferencia de sus amigos, no admite que la verdad sea idéntica a las apariencias, presiona para que Dios mismo dé una verdadera resolución a su queja.

En este momento, mientras derrama sus lágrimas ante Dios, sabe que Dios será su amigo y su intercesor. Dios, que conoce los hechos, testificará de su inocencia, como, de hecho, lo hizo Dios en el prólogo (2:3). Dios, al final, se mostrará amigo de Job aunque las apariencias actuales indiquen lo contrario (y esto es lo que sucede en el epílogo). Aunque Job expresa sus lamentos hablando de Dios como su enemigo, en lo más profundo de su corazón Job sabe que Dios es su amigo.

Job 19

En el capítulo 19 Job se queja de que sus amigos lo tratan como a un enemigo. Lo tratan como Dios lo trata, persiguiéndolo como un león persigue a su presa (19:21-22), y Job “escapó sólo con la piel de [sus] dientes” (19:20). En este contexto, Job ofrece la expresión de fe más loable del libro. Aquí vemos clara y decisivamente a la persona de fe. El Job que se niega a negar su integridad también se niega a negar a su Dios. No puede integrar cómo encajan los dos porque no comprende por qué Dios ha permitido que su siervo justo sufra. Esa tensión genera lamento, pero también genera esperanza. Aunque vive sin esperanza de un gozo futuro en este mundo, no vive sin la esperanza última de su vindicación. Su confianza está arraigada en el Dios redentor (19:25-27):

            Sé que mi Redentor vive,

                        y que al final él estará sobre la tierra

            Y después de que mi piel se caiga a pedazos,

                        Yo, en persona veré a Dios;

            yo mismo lo veré

                        Con mis propios ojos, yo y no otro.

            ¡Cómo anhela mi corazón dentro de mí!

Este es un texto crucial en el libro de Job. Algunos han visto la confianza de Job en un “Redentor” cumplida en Jesucristo, quien es el mediador o abogado legal entre Dios y la humanidad (cf. 1 Tim. 2:5).[8] Otros ven a su “Redentor” como su propia inocencia y justicia, es decir, Job es su propio abogado legal.[9] Semejante abismo de interpretación subraya la dificultad del texto. Pero a pesar de sus dificultades, la expresión de confianza es clara.

Este texto evidencia tres puntos importantes sobre la fe de Job. Primero, tiene una confianza suprema en la redención. Su redentor vive y actuará en nombre de Job. El redentor, el que se erige como libertador de su pueblo (cf. Éxodo 6:6; 15:13; Salmo 74:2; 77:16), es el Dios vivo.[10] Job confía en que el Dios que parece ser su enemigo es también el Dios que lo redimirá. En segundo lugar, cree en su reivindicación definitiva mediante la resurrección, o al menos la restauración de la comunión con Dios después de la muerte.[11] Job entiende que habrá algún tipo de encuentro con Dios, resucitado o no, en el que la comunión con Dios encontrará su expresión más plena. Job espera “ver” a Dios. Espera experimentar una comunión dichosa con Dios. De hecho, al final del libro, Job “ve” a Dios (42:5). En tercer lugar, esta relación con Dios es lo que él desea actualmente desde lo más profundo de su ser. Cualesquiera que sean las dificultades del texto, este es un grito de fe. Expresa su anhelo y su confianza. Incluso si la confianza de Job es que Dios intervendrá para restaurar a Job a su estado anterior de bienaventuranza.,[12] o si es simplemente la afirmación de su inocencia,[13] es una expresión de su confianza en la redención de Dios a pesar de las circunstancias presentes. Este grito no niega a su Dios. Más bien, anhela verlo. Este anhelo no surge de la arrogancia o la superioridad moral. Job anhela tener comunión con Dios y experimentar nuevamente su amistad.

Job no se hace ilusiones sobre su estado actual. Cree que Dios está enojado con él, lo ha hecho su enemigo y nunca le devolverá la paz y el descanso de esta vida. Llama y llora, incluso exige, una audiencia. Sin embargo, su única confianza real es que en la muerte Dios lo redimirá y restaurará esta relación. Dios, como su Redentor, se encontrará con él después de la muerte, y allí Job verá a Dios.

Por supuesto, Job quiere que eso suceda ahora. Pero su sufrimiento ha nublado su percepción de su relación con Dios: percibe a Dios como su enemigo cuando Dios es en realidad su amigo. El sufrimiento ha teñido la perspectiva de Job. Colorea el de todos. El sufrimiento no nos permite ver las cosas con claridad. Mientras Job duda y se desespera acerca de su vida presente, no tiene dudas ni desesperación acerca de su vida definitiva con Dios. Él sabe que su Redentor vive; sabe que tiene testigo y abogado en el cielo. Incluso si Dios lo mata ahora, Job confía en Dios. Es posible que Job haya perdido el equilibrio por su sufrimiento, pero no fue derribado.

La fe de Job perduró. No maldijo a Dios. Mantuvo su integridad. Mantuvo su esperanza. Sin embargo, su fe duradera estaba mezclada con dudas, desesperación, desilusión y duras acusaciones. Sin embargo, todavía era fe. Fue una lucha de fe, pero fue una fe victoriosa. Fue una fe que respondió a la acusación de Satanás: ¿Job sirve a Dios para obtener ganancias? La respuesta es no”. De hecho, cuando Job pone esa pregunta en boca de los burladores, la rechaza como “consejo de los impíos” (21:16). Job no sirve a Dios para obtener ganancias. Más bien, confía en su Dios incluso cuando parece que no hay razón para confiar en él. Esa es la perseverancia de la fe. Job nos enseña la lección de la perseverancia fiel. La fe genuina es una fe que, en última instancia, confía y espera en Dios a pesar de que lucha a través de montañas y valles de duda y desesperación. Job nos enseña que la fe genuina no es una fe perfecta. Más bien, la fe genuina es una fe que conserva su integridad a través de la lucha. La fe genuina continúa confiando. Esa es su integridad. Esa es la “paciencia” y la resistencia de Job (Santiago 5:11).

Dios se encuentra con Job

A lo largo de la conversación con sus amigos, Job primero se dirigió a sus amigos y luego se dirigió a Dios. Ambos aspectos de sus discursos estuvieron llenos de queja y acusación. Los tres amigos respondieron a Job hasta que llegaron a la conclusión de que Job estaba demasiado lleno de arrogancia para ser vencido con argumentos (32:1). Durante unos 24 capítulos, los amigos intentaron responder las preguntas de Job. Ellos respondían, pero Dios no. El silencio de Dios desconcertó y desilusionó a Job. ¿No vio Dios su angustia? ¿No escuchó Dios sus oraciones puras? ¿No respondería Dios?

Job no se hacía ilusiones de que si Dios hablaba, de alguna manera podría escapar de la miseria de su vida presente. No tenía esperanza de felicidad en esta vida (7:7). Pero quería una palabra de Dios aunque fuera una palabra de condenación. Job simplemente quiere saber algo incluso si no es lo que quiere oír. Quiere saber los cargos en su contra (10:2; 13:23). Quiere comprender el aparente caos moral del universo donde los malvados prosperan y los justos sufren (21:7-26; 24:1-12). Si Dios juzga a los impíos y los acusa de maldad, “¿por qué los que lo conocen deben buscar en vano esos días?” (24:1). Job desafía a Dios: “Que el Todopoderoso me responda” (31:35). ¿Dios hablará? ¿Se lo explicará? Si no lo hace, ¿cómo pueden los justos darle sentido a la prosperidad de los malvados, al sufrimiento de los justos y al estado caótico del universo moral?

Sin duda, para sorpresa de todos los participantes, Dios sí habla. Él viene a Job desde el torbellino, desde la tormenta (38:1; 40:6). Dios ya no calla, pero ¿responde? Habla, pero ¿explica? Que Dios haya hablado es una sorpresa, y lo que dijo es más sorprendente.

El texto registra dos discursos separados de Dios (38:2-40:2 y 40:7-41:34), y da dos respuestas correspondientes de Job (40:4-5; 42:1-6). Cada uno de los discursos de Dios tiene el mismo patrón. Primero, Dios se acerca a Job con un desafío (38:2-3; 40:7-14). Segundo, Dios le plantea una serie de preguntas a Job sobre el orden natural y el diseño del mundo (38:4-39:30; 40:15-41:34). En tercer lugar, Dios cierra con un desafío resumido (40:1-2). Son la primera y la tercera parte las que reflejan el enfoque que Dios adopta hacia Job. ¿Cómo ve Dios a Job? ¿Lo considera un pecador bullicioso y moralista que debe ser aplastado por el poder de Dios o lo considera un paciente ignorante cuya miseria lo ha llevado al borde de la rivalidad con Dios? Creo que ve a Job desde esta última perspectiva. Dios confronta a Job, pero con misericordia y gracia, no con ira o enojo. Lo confronta con preguntas difíciles por amor duro, pero Job también es siervo de Dios y Dios se le aparece con gracia.

Pero la respuesta de Dios no es una respuesta. No responde las preguntas de Job. ¿Por qué se da vida a los que están en la miseria (3:20)? Dios no responde. ¿Por qué Dios ha hecho de Job su objetivo (7:20)? Dios no responde. ¿Por qué Dios ocultó su rostro de Job y lo consideró enemigo (13:24)? Dios no responde. ¿Por qué prosperan los malvados (21:7)? Dios no responde. ¿Por qué Dios no fija un tiempo para el juicio (24:1)? Dios no responde. Dios no proporciona una explicación de su gobierno moral del mundo y tampoco le explica a Job por qué le han sucedido estas tragedias. Dios no responde las preguntas de Job.

En cambio, Dios involucra a Job en un diálogo personal que se centra en dos puntos principales que son paralelos a los dos discursos divinos. El primer discurso se refiere a la sabiduría y el cuidado trascendentes de Dios, y el segundo se refiere a la soberanía de Dios sobre su creación, particularmente sobre el mal.

El primer discurso (38:1-40:2) es una serie de preguntas sobre el papel de Dios como creador trascendente en contraste con la finitud y la ignorancia de Job. Job había hablado de cosas que no sabía, por eso Dios le pregunta sobre su papel en el universo. “¿Dónde estabas tú cuando puse los cimientos de la tierra?” (38:4). Dios plantea pregunta tras pregunta, todas reflejando su papel como creador y Señor soberano del cosmos. Y pregunta tras pregunta, incita a Job a reflexionar sobre sus propias limitaciones. “Dime si sabes todo esto” (38:18). Las preguntas obligan a Job a admitir su propia ignorancia y recordar su papel finito en el cosmos.

Pero estas preguntas también apuntan a la sabiduría y el cuidado de Dios. Éstas no son simplemente preguntas sobre el poder. Su función no es simplemente recordarle a Job el poder de Dios, sino también recordarle el cuidado y la sabiduría de Dios. Las preguntas no son arbitrarias; van desde la obra creativa de Dios cuando puso los cimientos del mundo (38:4-7) y controló las aguas caóticas (38:8-11) hasta su trascendencia sobre el caos de los malvados y la muerte (38:12-21). ), control sobre las aguas (nieve, lluvia, ríos) de la tierra (38:22-30, 34-38), y su regulación de las estrellas y las estaciones (38:31-33). Las preguntas luego pasan al reino animal y al manejo de Dios de su creación viviente. Las preguntas no se refieren sólo al conocimiento sino también al cuidado. Dios pregunta si Job “sabe” (p. ej., 39:1), pero también pregunta si Job puede administrar esta creación y cuidarla como lo hace Dios. ¿Job caza el león (38:39), alimenta a los cuervos (38:41), le da su hogar al asno salvaje (39:6), usa el buey salvaje en su servicio (39:9-12), cuida por el avestruz aunque no tiene sentido común (39:12-18), y dale al caballo su fuerza (39:19). Dios pregunta: “¿Alza el vuelo el halcón con tu sabiduría” (39:26) o “¿vuela el águila a tu orden?” (39:27). A través de su poder Dios gestiona su creación con sabiduría y cuidado. La creación de Dios no es el campo de juego de su poder sino el vivero de su cuidado. El mundo no está fuera de control; Dios lo está manejando muy bien.

El segundo discurso (40:6-41:34) es una serie de preguntas sobre el control de Dios sobre las fuerzas caóticas. Dios desafía a Job a manejar este caos y maldad mejor que El. “¿Tienes un brazo como Dios?” (40:9). Si es así, “desatan el furor de vuestra ira, miran a todo hombre orgulloso y lo humillan” (40:11) y “aplastan a los impíos donde están” (40:12). Si puedes gestionar el mal en el mundo mejor que yo, entonces “yo mismo te confesaré que tu diestra puede salvarte” (40:14).

Los animales “behemot” (40:15) y “leviatán” (41:1) representan el mal y el caos en el mundo. El primero es un animal terrestre grande, pero el segundo es una especie de criatura marina. El lenguaje aquí es altamente poético y sirve al punto sobre el manejo del caos y el mal por parte de Dios. Job no puede “aplastar a los impíos” ni humillar a los orgullosos, pero Dios sí puede. Dios controla incluso al gigante que nadie más puede capturar (40:19,24). Dios controla el leviatán que nadie más puede manejar (41:1-10). Ninguna otra criatura es como estas. Ninguna otra criatura puede controlar a estos animales. El gigante es la “primera” entre las obras de Dios (40:19), y el leviatán no tiene igual y “es rey sobre todos los soberbios” (40:33-34). El mal reina en el mundo. El caos llena la tierra. Pero Dios todavía tiene el control y todo le pertenece (41:11).

Pero, ¿cómo responden estos discursos a las preguntas de Job? En cierto sentido, no son respuestas. No abordan específicamente los detalles de la situación de Job. Dios no le cuenta a Job acerca de la apuesta celestial descrita en el prólogo. Los discursos no abordan la cuestión de la justicia distributiva y el equilibrio moral. Dios no explica por qué los malvados prosperan mientras Job sufre. Los discursos no abordan las preguntas específicas de Job sobre el sufrimiento y la justicia. Más bien, abordan algo más fundamental. Abordan la cuestión crítica que se planteó en el prólogo y se asumió a lo largo de los diálogos: la confianza en la gestión del mundo por parte de Dios. ¿Creemos que Dios está administrando sabiamente su creación? Esto es lo que Job dudaba, y esto es lo que dio origen a las preguntas y acusaciones de sus lamentos.

Cuando el mal nos rodea y el caos llena nuestra vida, entonces comenzamos a dudar de la soberanía de Dios (¿está Dios realmente en control?) o dudamos de su bondad (¿realmente le importa a Dios?). Nos preguntamos si Dios sabe lo que está haciendo o si puede hacer algo. Esto ocasiona lamento. Creemos en Dios, al igual que Job, pero el caos de nuestras vidas crea dudas, desesperación y desilusión. Entonces, nosotros, como Job, nos quejamos, cuestionamos y acusamos.

La respuesta de Dios es: tengo el control, me preocupo y sé lo que estoy haciendo. ¿Puedes confiar en mi? Si controlé las aguas caóticas de la creación, ¿no puedo gestionar el caos de tu vida? Si mis cuidados alimentan a los leones y a los cuervos, ¿no cuidaré de vosotros? Si puedo domar al leviatán que aplasta a los orgullosos, ¿no puedo aplastar el caos y la maldad en tu vida? La respuesta de Dios es su trascendencia, pero no es una trascendencia desnuda. No es una mera afirmación de poder. Más bien, es una trascendencia amorosa y afectuosa que gestiona el caos del mundo con fines benévolos. La pregunta es si Job puede confiar en la gestión de Dios de su creación.

Job vio una respuesta en la respuesta de Dios. No era la respuesta que buscaba, pero era suficiente para sus necesidades. Confiesa la trascendencia de Dios y su propia ignorancia. De hecho, ofrece a Dios su alabanza. Confiesa que hay cosas demasiado “maravillosas” para que él las sepa o las entienda. El mundo le resulta incomprensible, pero no lo es para Dios. Si bien desconoce la providencia de Dios, sabe que ningún plan divino “puede ser frustrado” (42:2). Job responde al diálogo de Dios con alabanza. Confiesa la maravilla de la providencia de Dios y la inescrutabilidad de sus designios. El lamento de Job se convierte en alabanza. Ya no pregunta ni duda, sino que alaba a Dios. A través de su encuentro con Dios, pasa de la queja a la alabanza.

¿Job se “arrepiente” y por tanto repudia todo lo que ha dicho en sus lamentos? ¿Se retracta ahora Job de todas sus preguntas? No lo creo. Si bien la traducción estándar de Job 42:6 es algo así como la NVI, “Por eso me desprecio a mí mismo y me arrepiento en polvo y ceniza”, esta no es la mejor traducción. El término traducido “despreciar” también puede significar “derretir”. Puede referirse a la humildad de Job ante Dios. El verbo no tiene objeto en hebreo, por lo que probablemente signifique algo así como “Me humillo ante ti”. El término traducido “arrepentirse” significa “cambiar de opinión” o “revertir una decisión sobre algo” (Éxodo 32:12,14; Jeremías 18:8,10; Amós 7:3,6).  No significa necesariamente sentir remordimiento por el pecado o confesar culpa. De hecho, Job no confiesa pecado ni se arrepiente. De hecho, Dios juzgó que lo que Job había dicho era correcto y que lo que sus amigos habían dicho era erróneo (42:7). En lugar de arrepentirse de algún pecado, cambia de opinión: pasa del lamento a la alabanza. Cambia su acercamiento a Dios. Él renuncia a su lamento. Job está diciendo: “Estoy consolado” o “Ya no me lamentaré”. Renunciará a su “polvo y ceniza”, el “polvo” del luto (2:12) y las “cenizas” de su trágico lamento (2:8).

Job se siente reconfortado por su encuentro con Dios [14]. El término hebreo traducido “arrepentirse” aparece siete veces en Job (2:11; 7:13; 16:2; 21:34; 29:25; 42:6, 42:11). En todos los casos, a menos que 42:6 sea la excepción, se refiere a confort o consuelo. De hecho, los tres amigos de Job lo visitan con el propósito de ofrecerle consuelo (2:11), pero son consoladores miserables (16:2; 21:34). Después de que Dios se reveló, sus amigos y familiares nuevamente buscaron consolarlo (42:11). Pero en medio de su tragedia Job no pudo encontrar consuelo, ni siquiera en su sueño nocturno (7:13). Job no encontró consuelo hasta que encontró a Dios. Job 42:6b tal vez debería leerse algo como “Tu presencia me consuela en mi polvo y mis cenizas”.

Esto es paralelo a lo que sucede en los Salmos de lamento. En respuesta a un encuentro divino, o a un oráculo de salvación, el lamentador confiesa “ahora lo sé…”. (cf. Salmo 20:6; 59:9; 140:12; 41:11; 135:5). Si Job es un “lamento dramático”, como sostiene Westermann, entonces los discursos divinos son el “oráculo de salvación” y Dios se encuentra con Job de modo que “ahora” Job ve a Dios y se somete a su presencia. Job pasa del lamento a la alabanza:[15]

42:5 Contiene la “solución” al “problema” de Job. No hay otro. Dios ha respondido a Job. Dios se ha encontrado con Job. En la medida en que Job da testimonio de esto, da testimonio de la realidad de Dios en su totalidad. Ahora conoce a Dios y ya no sólo un aspecto de la actividad de Dios..

Cuando Dios se acercó, cuando comprometió a Job con su presencia y con la revelación de sí mismo, Job se consoló. Entonces Job cesó su lamento. Entonces Job aprendió a alabar a Dios nuevamente. La diferencia es la experiencia de Dios mismo. Mientras que anteriormente Job sólo había “oído” de Dios, ahora lo había visto (42:5). Job fue reconfortado por la presencia de Dios y él -si conservamos la traducción tradicional aunque con un significado más apropiado- “se arrepintió de su polvo y de sus cenizas”, es decir, cesó su luto y su corazón se volvió a la alabanza. Job tuvo una “experiencia del santuario” y, al igual que en los lamentos de los Salmos, la presencia de Dios lo impulsó a pasar del lamento a la alabanza.

Lo que falta en los discursos divinos es exactamente lo que Job exigía. No hay lista de cargos. No hay acusación. No hay explicación del sufrimiento. No existe una explicación razonada del aparente estado caótico de la justicia moral en el mundo. No hay defensa de la justicia de Dios. ¿Qué respuesta puede encontrar Job en estos discursos? ¿Cómo podemos encontrar en los discursos de Dios nuestra respuesta?

Si los discursos no responden a nuestras preguntas, quizás el problema no sea la respuesta divina sino las preguntas humanas. O, más precisamente, tal vez la respuesta divina pretenda subrayar el carácter finito y limitado de las preguntas humanas. Quizás Dios muestra su conocimiento para que podamos sentir nuestra ignorancia y nuestra finitud. Quizás la respuesta sea: “No eres capaz de comprender a este nivel, pero eres capaz de comprender mi bondad y mi soberanía, ¡así que confía en mí!”. Quizás la respuesta sea: “No puedes entender la respuesta que soy capaz de dar, ¡así que confía en mí!”.

De hecho, aquí está la respuesta. La miseria humana siempre planteará preguntas. No puede evitar hacerlo. Las bajas emocionales y espirituales del sufrimiento plantearán las preguntas. La intensidad del sufrimiento dará como resultado una agonía prolongada. Preguntará: “¿Por qué?” Se preguntará: “¿Dónde está Dios?” Dudará: “¿Realmente le importa?” Dios no condena las preguntas. Ni siquiera condena las respuestas que a menudo damos en medio del sufrimiento. Dios es paciente con su pueblo. Pero la respuesta está en reconocer la distinción entre Dios y la humanidad, entre nuestras preguntas y su carácter. La respuesta de Dios a Job es: “Entiendo tus preguntas, pero reconozco tu finitud; entiendo tu frustración, pero reconozco mi fidelidad y mi cuidado”. La respuesta de Dios a Job es su presencia abrumadora pero reconfortante. Ahora Job “ve” a Dios, y esto es suficiente.

A través de nuestras preguntas, de nuestras dudas y de nuestras acusaciones directas, debemos reconocer que hablamos desde nuestra finitud. Hablamos desde el fondo del cuenco. No podemos ver la gama completa de vida y significado. No tenemos la perspectiva desde la cual podamos juzgar todos los acontecimientos. Nuestra finitud es limitante. Nuestra ignorancia es debilitante. Lo que debe brillar, como lo hace en las palabras de Job, es una confianza subyacente en la bondad y fidelidad de Dios a pesar de las circunstancias externas. Aquí es donde debemos inclinarnos ante la trascendencia de Dios.

Al reconocer nuestras limitaciones entendemos que nuestras percepciones de Dios están condicionadas por nuestra finitud y limitadas por nuestra ignorancia. Lo mismo puede decirse del mundo que nos rodea, y especialmente de la relación de Dios con él. Por lo tanto, Dios no humilló a Job ni “lo hizo volar” con su ira, que era lo que esperaban los amigos. En este sentido, el propio Job fue reivindicado porque el Dios que se le apareció no era el Dios que sus amigos habían imaginado. Al contrario, Dios se reveló como el Dios trascendente que cuida sabiamente de su creación. Job encontró al Dios trascendente y se inclinó en humilde sumisión ante él mientras confesaba sus propias limitaciones. Se encontró con el Dios vivo y lo adoró.

Debemos aprender a vivir según la revelación en lugar de juicios razonados sobre la relación entre Dios y la humanidad. Debemos aprender a vivir por fe y no por vista. Porque en la revelación Dios no guarda silencio. Él habla y se revela de maneras que nos aseguran su fidelidad y amor. Allí encontramos al Dios que cuida, ama y reina. Allí encontramos la presencia reconfortante de Dios. Sólo en el conocimiento, la contemplación y la experiencia de ese Dios podemos llegar a soportar la miseria con fe, integridad y esperanza.

Conclusion

                        ¿Qué esperanza tiene el impío cuando está perdido?

                                    cuando Dios le quita la vida?

                        ¿Dios escucha su clamor?

                                    cuando le sobreviene la angustia?

                        ¿Se deleitará en el Todopoderoso?

                                    ¿Invocará a Dios en todo momento?

                                                            Job  27:8-10.

¿Seguirán los creyentes invocando a Dios incluso cuando haya angustia en sus vidas? Job cree que los impíos dejarán de acercarse a Dios cuando llegue la angustia. Dejarán de invocar a Dios en su desesperación. No les queda otra opción que sentarse en silencio y afrontar la nada. Sin embargo, cuando los creyentes están angustiados, claman a Dios. Invocan el nombre de Dios. De hecho, esta es una de las razones por las que a veces Dios causa angustia o problemas a los creyentes. Tiene la intención de atraerlos hacia sí mismo y provocar que regresen a él. Dios quiere que invoquen su nombre. Los impíos rechazarán la disciplina de Dios y se negarán a invocar su nombre. Pero los creyentes, como Job, seguirán invocando a Dios y ofreciendo sus oraciones, aunque sus oraciones puedan estar llenas de preguntas, amargura y dudas. Sin embargo, el pueblo fiel de Dios clama a él día y noche (1 Reyes 8:59: 2 Crónicas 6:20; Lamentaciones 2:18; Nehemías 1:6; Jeremías 9:1; Salmo 32:4; 42:3; Apocalipsis 4:8; 7:15).

Después del exilio, Zacarías interpretó el significado de las guerras que asolaron a Judá antes y durante su exilio. Dios declaró que dos tercios de la tierra serían derribados y perecerían, y que el tercio restante quedaría en la tierra. Dios declaró su intención para este tercero (Zacarías 13:8-9):

                        Este tercero lo meteré en el fuego,

                                    Los refinaré como plata

                                    y pruébalos como al oro.

                        Invocarán mi nombre

                                    y yo les responderé;

                        Diré: “Ellos son mi pueblo”.

                                    y dirán: “El Señor es nuestro Dios”.

Dios probó a su pueblo y refinó su fe a través del exilio. Los que quedaron en la tierra fueron puestos a prueba por la angustia de una tierra devastada. Entonces el pueblo clamaría y el Señor les respondería renovando su alianza de amor. Dios cumpliría su intención creativa habitando nuevamente entre su pueblo como su Dios y ellos como su pueblo. Dios respondería al llamado de su pueblo; Él respondería a sus oraciones. Dios prueba a su pueblo para ver si clamará a él con fe o si se rebelará contra sus intenciones y lo maldecirá. Dios prueba a su pueblo para ver lo que hay en sus corazones.

            El concepto bíblico de “invocar” a Dios o “invocar el nombre del Señor” proporciona el telón de fondo de la prueba de Dios.  Es el comienzo de nuestra salvación (“todo aquel que invoque el nombre del Señor será salvo”, Romanos 10,13; cf. Hechos 22,16) y caracteriza toda nuestra vida delante de Dios (2 Timoteo 2: 22; 1 Corintios 1:2). Es la oración persistente del creyente que invoca a Dios en cada circunstancia de la vida. Los salmos reflejan el carácter omnipresente de esta vida de oración. El término “llamar” o “clamar” se utiliza cincuenta y nueve veces en los Salmos. Se usa en himnos penitenciales (Salmo 102:2; 130:1; cf. Joel 1:14, 19), en lamentos o quejas (Salmo 3:4; 4:1,3; cf. Lamentaciones 3:55, 57). ), en peticiones o intercesiones (Salmo 30:8; 34:6; cf. 1 Crónicas 4:10; 2 Crónicas 14:11) y en alabanzas o acciones de gracias (Salmo 105:1; 138:3; cf. 1 Crónicas 16 :8). El pueblo de Dios invoca el nombre del Señor. Le ofrecen sus acciones de gracias, alabanzas, peticiones, confesiones, lamentos y quejas. Son personas que se inclinan ante el trono de Dios y buscan su rostro. Son personas que derraman su corazón ante él y se someten a su voluntad. El pueblo de Dios es un pueblo de oración. Como pueblo de Dios, esperan que cuando llamen a Dios, en su fidelidad, respondan según su misericordia (Salmo 3:4; 4:1; 17:6; 20:9; 22:2; 27:7; 81: 7; 86:7; 91:15; 1 Crónicas 21:26; 33:3; Jonás 2:2; Zacarías 13:9).

Lo que Dios espera de su pueblo es que lo involucren constante y consistentemente en oración. Espera que su pueblo invoque persistentemente su nombre, y la fidelidad amorosa de Dios significa que responderá de una manera consistente con su objetivo escatológico. Dios pretende tener un pueblo para sí y él mismo es fiel a sus objetivos, pero la pregunta es si persistiremos en la oración. Cuando se cumpla la meta escatológica de Dios, “cuando venga el Hijo del Hombre, ¿hallará fe en la tierra” (Lucas 18:8)? ¿Continuará el pueblo de Dios involucrando a Dios en oración persistente con la confianza de que Dios actuará en nombre de su pueblo que “clama a él día y noche” (Lucas 18:7)?

            Los creyentes, cuando están agobiados por la caída de este mundo, se vuelven a Dios y dan a conocer sus cargas. Piden ayuda, piden ayuda y hacen preguntas. Los creyentes se vuelven a Dios con fe, mientras que los impíos maldicen a Dios y buscan su propio camino. Pero cuando el pueblo de Dios clama por ayuda, rescate y liberación, experimenta la angustia de la fe.  Es una fe que confía incluso cuando parece que Dios se ha convertido en su enemigo (Salmos 6, 44, 74, 88, 90).[16] El pueblo de Dios invoca a su Dios “día y noche” (Nehemías 1:6).

Translated by Wilson Silva Garcia from John Mark Hicks, Yet Will I Trust Him (College Press, 1999), pp. 153-182.


[1]Michael Brennan Dick, “The Legal Metaphor in Job 31,” Catholic Biblical Quarterly 41 (1979), 37-50; “Job 31, the Oath of Innocence, and the Sage,” Zeitschrift für Altestamentliche Wissenschaft 95 (1983), 31-53; Sylvia Hubermann Scholnick, “The Meaning of Mispat (Justice) in the Book of Job,” Journal of Biblical Literature 101 (1982), 521-29; “Poetry in the Courtroom: Job 38-41,” in Directions in Hebrew Poetry, ed. Elaine Follis (Sheffield: JSOT, 1987), 185-204;  J.J. Roberts, “Job’s Summons to Yahweh: The Exploration of a Legal Metaphor,” Restoration Quarterly 16 (1973), 159-165; and Norman Habel, The Book of Job:  A Commentary, Old Testament Library (Philadelphia:  Westminster Press, 1985), 54-57.

[2]Ludwig Köhler, Hebrew Man, trans. P. R.. Ackroyd (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1957), 134-39.

[3]Este es un versículo notoriamente difícil de traducir. La nota al pie de la NVI ofrece la alternativa “Ciertamente me matará; no tengo esperanza, pero lo haré…” La dificultad radica en la construcción hebrea. ¿Significa “no tengo esperanza” o “esperaré en él”? He optado por el texto NVI que Anderson, Job, p. 166, y David McKenna, Job, The Communicator’s Commentary (Waco, TX: Word, 1986), p. ???, defender. En cualquier caso, Job confía en su reivindicación cuando se presente ante Dios. La nota al pie de la NVI significaría algo como: Ya sea que Dios lo mate o no, tenga o no esperanza de prosperidad futura, está seguro de que su inocencia será confirmada. (cf. 13:18).

[4]Anderson, Job, p. 166.

[5]David J.A. Clines, Job 1-20, Word Biblical Commentary (Dallas: Word Books, Publisher, 1989), p. 333.

[6]Alden, Robert R. Job, New American Commentary (Nashville: Broadman Press, 1993), p. 168.

[7]Hartley, Job, p. 264.

[8]Roy B. Zuk, Job, Everyman’s Bible Commentary (Chicago: Moody Press, 1978), 92, p. and Alden, p. 207.

[9]Clines, Job, pp. 459-60.

[10]Hartley, Job, pp. 293-5.

[11]Que Job hable de una resurrección es controvertido en los estudiosos contemporáneos. No me tomaré el tiempo para defender este entendimiento excepto para señalar al lector las excelentes explicaciones de Janzen, Job, pp. 142-45.

[12]Hartley, Job, p. 296.

[13]Clines, Job, p. 461.

[14]David Wolfers, Deep Things Out of Darkness (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1995), p. 461, translates 42:6 as “I am comforted.”  See also D.J. O’Conner, “Job’s Final Word — ‘I Am Consoled. . .” (42:6b), Irish Theological Quarterly 50 (1983/84), 181-97.

[15]Westermann, The Structure of the Book of Job, p. 128.

[16]Ingvar Fløsvik, When God Becomes My Enemy:  The Theology of the Complaint Psalms (Saint Louis:  Concordia Academic Press, 1997).


Psalm 13 — Derek: Meditating on the Way

June 21, 2024

Bobby Valentine and John Mark Hicks discuss the meaning and significance of Psalm 13, which functions as a model lament. It begins with questions and disillusionment (13:1-2), petitions God in the middle (13:3-4), and expresses trust in God in the final verses (13:5-6).


Lesson 22: You Have Come to Mount Zion, the Heavenly Jerusalem

June 19, 2024

Hebrews 12:18-29

You have not come to something that can be touched, a blazing fire, and darkness, and gloom, and a tempest, and the sound of a trumpet, and a voice whose words made the hearers beg that not another word be spoken to them. (For they could not endure the order that was given, “If even an animal touches the mountain, it shall be stoned to death.” Indeed, so terrifying was the sight that Moses said, “I tremble with fear.”) But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel.

See that you do not refuse the one who is speaking; for if they did not escape when they refused the one who warned them on earth, how much less will we escape if we reject the one who warns from heaven! At that time his voice shook the earth; but now he has promised, “Yet once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heaven.” This phrase, “Yet once more,” indicates the removal of what is shaken—that is, created things—so that what cannot be shaken may remain. Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us give thanks, by which we offer to God an acceptable worship with reverence and awe; for indeed our God is a consuming fire.

Hebrews 12:18-24 contrasts the experience of God’s presence at Mount Sinai and the experience of God’s presence at Mount Zion when disciples of Jesus are gathered.  The description is “eschatological” in character, that is, it describes the experience of the saints through the eyes of the end (telos) or God’s goal.  It is the presence of the future.  When assembled, Christians experience God as a people gathered in God’s throne room. This foretaste of the future is experienced in the communal gathering of God’s people. 

The description of the Sinaitic experience recalls Exodus 19 (which is quoted in Hebrews 12:20, citing Exodus 19:12-13).  It was a terrifying, holy, and transcendent experience.  God’s holiness excluded sin and sent fearful trembling throughout Israel—so much so that they did not want God to speak directly to them. 

This was the “day of assembly” in Israel when the people gathered in the presence of God at the foot of Sinai (Deuteronomy 9:10; 10:4; 18:16).  It is an assembly context.  The presence of God is reflected in the thundering, shakings, and lightning enveloping the mountain.  It is a holy mountain because God’s holy presence is there.  But that holiness distances people from the mountain.  They have limited access to God’s presence.  They could not touch the mountain.

The key word in the text is “approach” or “draw near” or “come to” (Hebrews 12:18, 22).  It is the same term used in Hebrews 4:16; 7:25; 10:1; 10:22; 11:6. It is “worship” term; a liturgical term.  It means to enter God’s presence. That presence came to Israel in a terrifying way at Sinai, but now the church has come to God with eschatological joy, a joy that experiences the fullness of God’s redemptive presence. We experience the future of God’s promise to us in the presence of the divine. We come, as an assembly and in the assembly, to God, that is, we enter God’s presence with boldness and joy.

The new covenant through Jesus brings us to the God’s own self.  We enter the Most Holy Place, God’s own sanctuary.  We come to where God lives (Mt. Zion or heavenly Jerusalem).  This dwelling-place of God is described by its surroundings.

  • We come to thousands upon thousands of angels in joyful assembly—angels surround the throne of God and live in his holy city.  They worship God and the Son as they celebrate the redemption God has accomplished through Jesus.  When we enter God’s presence through assembling togehter, we join the chorus of the angels, singing “Holy, Holy, Holy.”
  • We come to the church of the firstborn ones, whose names are written in heaven—to the assembly of God’s people that is the company of the redeemed.  They have their names written in the book of life.  This language is used in OT and Jewish literature for God’s redeemed people.  This probably refers to those saints who still live upon the earth.  Literally, it reads: “assembly [church] of the firstborn ones.”  They are God’s firstborn, the elect ones of God.  This is God’s people who are still running the race but are part of God’s election. They are all “firstborn” (there is no hierarchy here based on who was born first or even created first). When we draw near to God’s holy city, we not only come to God but we also “go to church.” We join the heavenly assembly where the whole church all over the world is gathered. Wherever the church assembles upon the earth, whether in Singapore, Nashville, or Frankfurt, it gathers in the throne room as the one people of God.
  • We come to the spirits of righteous people made perfect—to saints who have received the perfection.  They have been perfected by the blood of Jesus, through their own suffering in life, and their presence in glory.  The “spirits of righteous persons” was a well-known idiom for dead saints in Jewish Second Temple literature (cf. Jubilees 23:30-31; 1 Enoch 22:9; 102:4; 103:3-4; 2 Apoc. Baruch 30:2).  They are righteous in the sense of having received divine approval by faith (Hebrews 11:4, 7).  They are “perfected” in their heavenly, eschatological glory, which (I think) includes their resurrection (remember this is an eschatological text; not a Platonic one). These are the faithful who persevered as Hebrews 11 noted, but they are also the faithful of the centuries since. Consequently, we recognize the whole history of faithful believers who are gathered in the presence of God, including those whom we have known in our own lives but have passed into heavenly realms upon their death.

We we assembly here on earth, we are gathered there in the heavenly Jerusalem. It is a foretaste of the eschatological glory of the new heaven and new earth when all God’s people will be gathered around the throne together and see the face of God.

This describes the reality of heavenly glory, and the text affirms that believers on the earth are participants in that reality.  We come (approach, draw near) and participate in the assembly of God’s people in his presence.  We come to God by the blood of Jesus, and we experience the fellowship of angels, dead saints, and the church throughout the world.

God has spoken!  God spoke at Sinai (Hebrews 12:19, and has also spoken through the Son (cf. Hebrews 1:1-2).  God has spoken through the blood of Christ (Hebrews 12:24), which is the blood of forgiveness (in contrast to Abel’s cry for vengenance and justice in Genesis 4:10).  If we refuse this divine speaking, nothing but judgment is left.  If Israel refused the Sinaitic divine speaking and did not escape judgment, how much less will the church escape God’s judgment if we refuse his speaking through his Son?

The preacher quotes Haggai 2:6 as a warning about judgment.  God shook the earth, which is a metaphor for divine judgment.  The preacher heightens the judgment by God’s promise to shake the heavens.  Just as God brought the fullness of redemption through Christ, so also God will bring the fullness of judgment to those who reject or abandon Israel’s Messiah.  God will shake everything—all of created reality, and by that shaking reveal what is unshakeable.  The unshakeable reality is the kingdom of God—the redeemed community in the presence of God that Christ has established through his blood within God’s good, renewed creation.

The recognition that God is a “consuming fire” reflects the reality of God’s righteous judgment.  The preacher quotes Deuteronomy 4:24. We approach God with boldness, but with respect and awe.  We approach God in full recognition of divine holiness and in full recognition that if we reject God’s grace judgment awaits us.  Nevertheless, we approach him in worship with boldness and gratitude.  We do not fear his presence but rejoice in it.  Consequently, we experience his kingdom presence with the confidence that God receives us graciously through the work of Christ.

Moreover, we receive–even now–this kingdom that cannot be shaken. It is present now though not yet fully here. While we wait for that fullness, “let us give thanks, by which we offer to God an acceptable worship with reverence and awe.” This is liturgical and priestly language. “We offer” is priestly service, a term that characterized the Levitical priesthood. When we assemble, we assemble as “firstborn” priests who offer sacrifices of thanksgiving to God with the kind of respect and awe that reflects the eschatological reality of where we are: we are gathered in the most holy place, in the holy sanctuary, before the throne of God and the Messiah who sits at God’s right hand!

The exhortations that filled chapters four through twelve are fundamentally calls to perseverance.  Don’t give up; don’t miss the grace of God; don’t refuse God’s gracious offer.  When the offer is rejected, there is nothing else left but judgment.  God is a consuming fire and when we lose our inheritance rights, we will experience God’s fire.

This is the reality that the preacher of Hebrews calls us to picture.  He projects us into the throne room of God.  We are in the Most Holy Place.  We come—in our daily lives, but also in our assemblies—to Mt. Zion, the heavenly Jerusalem.  We come to God who is surrounded by his angels and the saints who previously died and now enjoy God’s presence (as in Revelation 7:9-17).  Furthermore, as we gather in God’s presence, all the saints around the world are present there as well.  We are not alone!  We gather with thousands of angels, millions of saints—both on earth and in heaven.

This is what God has accomplished for us through Jesus Christ.  God has invited into the divine presence and given us access to the Most Holy Place.  Even now we enjoy his eschatological presence with eschatological joy while we wait for Jesus to appear a second time.   This encourages us to persevere.  We don’t give up because we enjoy the presence of God even now. 

I wish I had known this perspective when I was working with a struggling, small church in Northeast Philadelphia.  Sometimes we felt so alone.  We felt so small.  We felt so useless at times.  Perhaps that is how Roman Christians felt and they had the added prospective persecution in the near future that would make martyrs out of many of them!  But we are not alone, and neither are we small.  Moreover, we are not useless—we are God’s witnesses.  We bear witness to the faith, hope and love in a fallen world.  We worship and we serve.  We gather with saints, both dead and alive, in God’s presence and in the presence of his angels.  We, even in the midst of this great contest and struggle, experience the future through faith.  We know eschatological joy through faith.

Have you ever seen “Places in the Heart” which stars Danny Glover and Sally Fields?  During the movie several of the stars died, but at the end of the movie they reappear.   They reappear in the final scene of the movie that is a communion service.  In that final scene the camera pans the rows as each participant partakes and some of those who have already died are again on those pews drinking the communion cup.  The scene portrays the eschatological reality that we now experience.  As we eat and drink in the presence of God, we eat and drink with saints who have gone on before us.  We eat and drink together in the throne room of God with all of God’s saints.   As we gather around the table, the Spirit of God lifts up into the throne room of God and we experience a foretaste of eschatological fellowship at the messianic table in the kingdom of God.

Given this vision of eschatological joy in festive assembly, the preacher exhorts his people to continue in their faith because they already possess the goal, that is, they already experience eschatological joy through faith.  That is our hope and that is why we continue the journey.  And because God has given us this gift through Jesus, that is why we praise him.  So, “let us worship and be grateful.”

Bibliographic note: if you are interested in an understanding of Hebrews 12:27 that includes a renewal of creation rather than the removal (annihilation) of creation, see Jihye Lee, “The Unshakeable Kingdom through the Shaking of Heaven and Earth in Hebrews 12:26-29,” Novum Testamentum 62, no. 3 (2020), 257-272. In his reading, this apocalyptic language reflects Second Temple Judaism’s affirmation of the descent of God’s presence and locating humanity in God’s presence within the renewed creation. It is not a function of Platonic dualism as many suggest.

See also Ole Jakob Filtvedt, “Creation and Salvation in Hebrews,” Zeitschrift fur die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft und die Kunde der alteren Kirche 106, no. 2 (2015), 280-303.


Psalm 45 — Derek: Meditating on the Way

June 15, 2024

Abby Kaplan joins Bobby Valentine and John Mark Hicks to talk about Psalm 45. This royal wedding song has both an original significance in Israel and a messianic meaning. The Psalm, sung by Israel, desires a king of justice, humility, and truth, and celebrates the inclusion of a woman from outside of Israel. Ultimately, the nations will praise this king forever and ever. What does this Psalm have to say to us today?


Lesson 21: Run with Perseverance

June 12, 2024

Hebrews 12:1-17

Lesson 21: Run the Race with Perseverance

Hebrews 12:1-17

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.

Consider him who endured such hostility against himself from sinners, so that you may not grow weary or lose heart. In your struggle against sin you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood. And you have forgotten the exhortation that addresses you as children—

            “My child, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord,

                        or lose heart when you are punished by him;

            for the Lord disciplines those whom he loves,

                        and chastises every child whom he accepts.”

Endure trials for the sake of discipline. God is treating you as children; for what child is there whom a parent does not discipline? If you do not have that discipline in which all children share, then you are illegitimate and not his children. Moreover, we had human parents to discipline us, and we respected them. Should we not be even more willing to be subject to the Father of spirits and live? For they disciplined us for a short time as seemed best to them, but he disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share his holiness. Now, discipline always seems painful rather than pleasant at the time, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.

Therefore lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint, but rather be healed.

Pursue peace with everyone, and the holiness without which no one will see the Lord. See to it that no one fails to obtain the grace of God; that no root of bitterness springs up and causes trouble, and through it many become defiled. See to it that no one becomes like Esau, an immoral and godless person, who sold his birthright for a single meal. You know that later, when he wanted to inherit the blessing, he was rejected, for he found no chance to repent, even though he sought the blessing with tears.

In chapter twelve, the preacher brings home the driving agenda of his sermon: a call to perseverance.  While the witnesses to the power of faith are encouraging, the preacher reminds the readers that Jesus is the primary and foundational example of faith.  Just as the witnesses suffering through the hostility of the cultures in which they lived, so Jesus suffered through faith. Yet, Jesus is the true pioneer and perfector of our faith as he endured the cross and its shame but was then exalted to the right hand of God.

Faith is disturbed by suffering. It seems incompatible with God’s compassionate fatherhood (even though Jesus was also a son who suffered). The preacher, therefore, comments on the reality of suffering and its meaning in the journey of faith. Perhaps surprising, God is active, involved, and present in their suffering. Indeed, God uses suffering; it can have positive meaning. Faith is trained by suffering as God refines us, matures us, and prepares us for holiness and the fuller experience of God’s own reality—our perfection.

The heroic faithful of Hebrews 11 are “witnesses.” I think this has a kind of double meaning: they bear witness to the reality of faith and they are witnesses to the race that continues in the present. They are victors in that they endured and finished their race. They testify to faith. They are also sitting in the arena cheering on those who are still running. Faith is a marathon race. Some have finished; others are still running. Those who have persevered and completed their journey are now witnesses to the power of faith and the congregation gathered at Mt. Zion in the heavenly Jerusalem applauding us for our perseverance.

These witnesses invite us to follow them.  Consequently, the preacher appeals to his hearers to cast off “the sin” (notice how definite that is; it is not “sins,” but “the sin”) that hinders them from running.  The “sin” is probably the sin of apostasy, which is the danger for the preacher’s audience.  Rather than quitting and hanging back or shrinking back, the preacher encourages them to continue the race and finish it.

However, the primary witness to faith is Jesus himself.  He joined us in the race.  He himself suffered and participated in our suffering.  He ran the race, and he persevered through faith.  He is our champion, our pioneer.  Consequently, fix your eyes on him.  Keep his example ever before you. He endured the shame for the sake of the promise, that is, to sit at the right hand of God as high priest for the people of God. This was the “joy” set before him.

Jesus is also the perfector of faith itself. We are seeking perfection and moving towards perfection (Hebrews 6:1), but it is Jesus who perfects faith. Our faith is weak, and it often struggles. But the perfector is Jesus who finished the journey without sin, that is, he did not give up, and he did not succumb to the dangers of apostacy. Moreover, as our perfected high priest exalted to the right hand of God, he pioneered a path for us to follow and join him in the heavenly sanctuary.

The situation of the preacher’s audience is clarified a bit in Hebrews 12:3-4 when Jesus’ suffering is placed in the context of opposition from sinful men and the preacher notes that they had not yet resisted evil unto blood.  In other words, they can expect martyrdom.  They will experience hostility and death from evil people, just as Jesus did.  The open question is whether they will run the race to the end just as Jesus did.

But how are we to understand the coming persecution?  Why does God permit this persecution?  Why did he permit the crucifixion and death of his own Son?  What purpose does God have in this permission of suffering?  What purpose moght God see in suffering at all?

The classic text for God’s pedagogical purposes in discipline (think: discipling) is Hebrews 12 (the Greek verbs and nouns for discipline are used eight times in verses 5-11).  The preacher draws upon the Hebrew Bible’s understanding of discipline as he applies those principles to the situation in which his readers find themselves.  Those ancient principles of discipline are applicable to present saints.  The writer anticipates that his readers will face another period of persecution as in the earlier days of their faith.  He calls them to remember those early days when they “stood [their] ground in a great contest in the face of suffering” (Hebrews 10:32).  They were publicly insulted and persecuted.  Some were thrown in prison and others had their property confiscated (Hebrews 10:33-34).  The believers persevered then, and now they must expect another contest of suffering.  The writer anticipates that there will be a renewal of this persecution or some kind of struggle that may involve the death of some in their community.  They have not yet had any martyrs, but there may be some in the future (Hebrews 12:4). Some may have to endure the cross and its shame, just as Jesus did.

Whatever the nature of this coming struggle, the writer offers an interpretation.  It does not come as punishment for sin, nor does it come because God is angry with the people.  Rather, this discipline arises out God’s love.  It is the kind of discipline that a father offers his child (Hebrews 12: 7-10).  The preacher quotes Proverbs 3:11-12 as a “word of encouragement that address [them] as sons” (Hebrews 12:5b-6).

The term translated “chastise” is a verb that means to “flog,” just as Jesus was flogged and his disciples were told that they would be flogged (Matthew 10:17; 20:19; 23:34; Mark 10:34; Luke 18:33; John 19:1).  Indeed, some of the previous witnesses mentioned in chapter eleven had suffered flogging (Hebrews 11:36).  The original readers of Hebrews could, perhaps, expect some of that themselves.  The context here does not mean “punishment” or vengeance as when God expresses his righteous judgment against evil but refers to the infliction of pain which discipline involves.  God chastises people; God afflicts them with pain for the sake of a higher goal.  The notion of “rebuke” (translated punished above) is a similar idea.  This rebuke does not arise out of anger but out of a desire for God’s people to reach a higher level of maturity.  God has a goal in mind and disciplines children in view of that goal.  God disciplines them according to the dictates of love in the light of the goal—the future they cannot yet see.

The readers, therefore, should not misinterpret this new wave of persecution as a sign of God’s anger.  They must understand it as a sign of love. It is God’s fatherly attention just as earthly fathers give attention to their children.  They should be encouraged rather than discouraged by this new struggle. God seeks to train his people through this pain. God seeks to educate his people so that they are equipped to share God’s holiness and communion. To persevere through the struggle, believers need to keep their eye on the goal to which God has called them.  This is the example of Jesus.  He is the model of endurance, just as the heroes of faith are models in Hebrews 11.  Jesus endured the cross with all its shame to experience the joy that was set before him, and even now he sits at the right hand of God (Hebrews 11:2).  Likewise, all the faithful who have gone before witness to the power of faith.  Though their faith did not receive what it hoped for in this life, nevertheless it persevered because they sought a city whose builder and maker is God (Hebrews 11:13-16; 39-40; 12:1).  God used struggle in their life to strengthen their faith so that it might persevere.

It is important to see God’s intent here.  God disciplines and chastises (causes pain, even flogs) for a reason.  It is a reason that is more significant than the pain of discipline.  The pain has a purpose.  The author writes (Hebrews 12:10b-11): What does God intend in discipline?  God intends something that is for our own good.  The good God intends is that we might share in his holiness.  The discipline trains us in such a way that it produces righteousness and peace, and the effect of this discipline is that we share God’s holiness.  God uses suffering and pain to produce a fruit whose purpose is that we might share his holiness. 

What does it mean to share God’s holiness?  It certainly includes the cultivation of fruit in our lives so that when the harvest of righteousness and peace is produced, we reflect God’s holiness.  But there is more since “without holiness no one will see the Lord” (Hebrews 12:14).  There is an eschatological meaning here as well as the promise of God’s current presence as we approach his throne (Hebrews 12:22ff).  To enter into the eschatological presence of God, we must be holy.  To be holy we must be sanctified by the work of Christ (Hebrews 10:14).  To be sanctified by the blood of Christ we must persevere in faith.  If perseverance means to endure suffering for the sake of the joy set before us, that is, the joy of God’s presence, then suffering is worth the goal.  God uses suffering and pain—God disciplines us–in order to bring us closer to that goal.  If Jesus suffered for the sake of the joy set before him, and the faithful of chapter eleven struggled for the sake of the promise, then the present people of God must expect to suffer as well.  It is the goal of faith that makes suffering worthwhile.  If discipline is a means to the joy, then discipline should be endured for the sake of the joy.  The joy is communion with God in the city of God, the heavenly Jerusalem where we sit as royal priests with Jesus our elder brother.

In this context, James makes sense.  Just as the writer of Hebrews encouraged his readers to endure trials for the sake of discipline, so James encouraged his readers to “consider it pure joy…whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance” (James 1:2).  And the one who “perseveres under the trial, because he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him” (James 1:12).  We do not rejoice because of the discipline, but we rejoice in the intent of the discipline.  We rejoice in the light of its goal. The crown of life is worth the trials, and God disciplines us with that goal in mind.  God acts, sometimes by inflicting pain, even floggings, so that we might be trained and prepared to share his holiness.  God intends good even when it seems painful and senseless to us.

Though the community will experience persecution, the preacher encourages them to live in peace with everyone as much as they can.  This is not simply peace within the community of believers, but also to seek peace with the hostile environment in which they live.  Peace is the way of holiness, and the church must seek holiness, as it is the way it shares God’s life that is holy.

But more specifically, the preacher is concerned that some will turn away and apostatize.  They will trade their inheritance for the comfort of “peace” with their neighbors.  We are always in danger of trading our future with God for the comfort of the present (whether it is the comfort of materialism, or the comfort of “getting along” with those who oppose our values).  The people of God often tend to compromise their values for the sake of comfort.  We don’t want to seek peace with those around us in the wrong way—in a way the compromises our values or that creates bitterness within the community of God.  Seek peace, but don’t compromise holiness.  Seek peace, but don’t give up your eternal inheritance for temporary comforts here.

Esau is the preacher’s example of this thing.  He compromised his birthright for the comfort of some food.  He traded something of great value for something that was essentially nothing.  He traded the eternal for the temporary.   In the aftermath—with the recognition that there was no changing what he had done—he sought the blessing with tears.  I don’t think this is a reference to someone who wants to repent but cannot.  Rather, it is an eternal perspective, an eschatological perspective.  That is, the preacher appeals to his hearers not to reject their inheritance because when the blessing is bestowed and the inheritance is received, we will repent of our rejection and seek it with tears.  But it will be too late, just as it was too late for Esau.


Psalm 110 — Derek: Meditating on the Way

June 7, 2024

This is the newest installment of “Derek: Meditating on the Way” with Bobby Valentine and John Mark Hicks. In this episode we discuss the meaning and significance of Psalm 110 in both its context in the Psalter and its relevance to messianic hopes, particularly as revealed in Jesus the Messiah.


Psalm 73 — Derek: Meditating on the Way

May 31, 2024

Psalm 73: “I was envious of the arrogant; I saw the prosperity of the wicked . . . But when I thought to understand this, it seemed to me a wearisome task, until I went into the sanctuary of God.”

Dr. Michael Brown joins Bobby Valentine and John Mark Hicks for a discussion of the meaning and significance of Psalm 73. When struggling with why bad things happen to good people and good things happen to bad people, how do we question God while also seeking God? What do we find?

For more on Psalm 73, see this blog and this blog by Bobby Valentine.


Lesson 19: Heroes of Faith in Genesis

May 29, 2024

Hebrews 11:1-22

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Indeed, by faith our ancestors received approval. By faith we understand that the worlds were prepared by the word of God, so that what is seen was made from things that are not visible.

By faith Abel offered to God a more acceptable sacrifice than Cain’s. Through this he received approval as righteous, God himself giving approval to his gifts; he died, but through his faith he still speaks. By faith Enoch was taken so that he did not experience death; and “he was not found, because God had taken him.” For it was attested before he was taken away that “he had pleased God.” And without faith it is impossible to please God, for whoever would approach him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him. By faith Noah, warned by God about events as yet unseen, respected the warning and built an ark to save his household; by this he condemned the world and became an heir to the righteousness that is in accordance with faith.

By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to set out for a place that he was to receive as an inheritance; and he set out, not knowing where he was going. By faith he stayed for a time in the land he had been promised, as in a foreign land, living in tents, as did Isaac and Jacob, who were heirs with him of the same promise. For he looked forward to the city that has foundations, whose architect and builder is God. By faith he received power of procreation, even though he was too old—and Sarah herself was barren—because he considered him faithful who had promised. Therefore from one person, and this one as good as dead, descendants were born, “as many as the stars of heaven and as the innumerable grains of sand by the seashore.”

All of these died in faith without having received the promises, but from a distance they saw and greeted them. They confessed that they were strangers and foreigners on the earth, for people who speak in this way make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of the land that they had left behind, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God; indeed, he has prepared a city for them.

By faith Abraham, when put to the test, offered up Isaac. He who had received the promises was ready to offer up his only son, of whom he had been told, “It is through Isaac that descendants shall be named for you.” He considered the fact that God is able even to raise someone from the dead—and figuratively speaking, he did receive him back. By faith Isaac invoked blessings for the future on Jacob and Esau. By faith Jacob, when dying, blessed each of the sons of Joseph, “bowing in worship over the top of his staff.” By faith Joseph, at the end of his life, made mention of the exodus of the Israelites and gave instructions about his burial.

Faith is a certain assurance for what we hope though we cannot see that for which we hope. Faith is no mere subjective feeling, but a conviction based on the objective nature of heavenly realities. It is the objective reality that gives rise to faith and empowers faith to persevere.

Lived faith, seen through examples, bears witness to the power of faith itself. The preacher encourages persevering in faith by remembering the stories of faith within the Torah and beyond. These heroes of faith were attested by God as they pursued faith even though they could not see what God had promised. Faith affirms the capacity of God to create new realities from what is now unseen. Faith, in this context, is future-oriented as it yearns for the realization of the promised future on the basis of God’s identity, mighty acts, and covenant love.

Appealing to the history of heroes is not unusual among writers of the Second Temple period. One of the most famous is the speech by Mattathias who encourages Israel to remain faithful despite the persecutions of Antiochus Epiphanes (167-163 BCE) in 4 Maccabees. For example, in 4 Maccabees 16:16-23, he recalls Abraham, Daniel, and the three young men sent into the fiery furnace among others throughout the book.

The intent of naming these heroes is encouragement as the sermon moves to its climactic conclusion. Hearers are encouraged to participate in the journey of faith like these heroes did and follow their example. The circumstances of these heroes were often more dire than what the current believers experienced. These heroes faced their own hostility and social pressure. Yet, they acted out of faith rather than fear. Seven heroes are named.

  • By faith Abel (11:4) – Abel was attested by God as righteous through faith because his sacrifice was received by God, and that faith still speaks. Abel suffered martyrdom despite his approval.
  • By faith Enoch (11:5-6) – Enoch pleased God through his faith. Thus, he triumphed over death through God’s gracious deliverance.
    • Faith is necessary—we cannot draw near to God if we don’t believe God exists and seek God who rewards the faithful with what is promised.
  • By faith Noah (11:7) – Noah trusted God’s warning of what he could not see and thus obeyed God despite the hostile nature of the world in which he lived. In this way, Noah became an heir of righteousness through faith.
  • By faith Abraham (11:8-12)
    • By faith, Abraham obeyed the call to leave his home in search of a new inheritance (11:8).
    • By faith, Abraham sojourned as an alien in a land he did not possess in search of a new home (city) whose builder is God (11:9-10)
    • By faith, Abraham became a progenitor though his body and the womb of Sarah were both dead. And Abraham received this promise, and its reality is now evident: the children of Abraham are now innumerable (11:11-12).

Hebrews 11:13-16 functions like an editorial comment. The preacher interrupts his list, dissecting it into two equal parts of four, to note the status of these faithful. They persevered in faith even though they did not receive the promises. A major characteristic is that neither group of four had a permanent home. Abel had a short life, Enoch was received into heaven, Noah had his home wiped out, and Abraham left his home in search of another. The list continues with Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph—none of whom had an inheritance in the land. They all lived as “strangers and foreigners on the earth” (Hebrews 13:13).

Faith claims there is a better country, a heavenly one. It sees the future where heavenly realities will be seen though they are presently unseen. God is preparing an inheritance for the faithful, and God will be their God and they will be God’s people. This is the point of the new covenant which is a renewal of relationship.

  • By faith Abraham (11:17-19) – Abraham offered Isaac, the son of promise, because he believed in what he could not see, that is, the resurrection of the dead.
  • By faith Isaac (11:20) – Isaac blessed his sons as he was assured by faith of an unseen future for his progeny.
  • By faith Jacob (11:21) – Jacob blessed the sons of Joseph because he was assured by faith of their unseen future.
  • By faith Joseph (11:22) – Joseph instructed them to bury him in the land of inheritance because he expected an unseen future (that is, an exodus from Egypt).

The persistent theme is faith in what is unseen, and what is unseen was so certain to these witnesses to faith that they acted in ways that seemed out of sync with what was expected of normal human beings. They stepped out in faith, and they acted because they trusted the promise of God.


Theologically? What is the Main Thing?

May 27, 2024

In this lesson, I discuss Titus 2:11-14 and Titus 3:3-8. What does one teach or stress in order to form a community of believers into a people zealous for good works?

This was delivered at the Homewood Church of Christ in Birmingham, AL on May 19, 2024.