John Mark Hicks

The story narrated by the Prologue is symmetrical and artistic.  It is neatly structured into two encounters between Yahweh and Satan bounded by an introductory affirmation of Job’s character and a concluding mourning with friends.  We may outline it in this manner.

A. Introduction: Job’s Character (1:1-5)

B.  First Encounter between Yahweh and Satan (1:6-12)

 C.  The Disasters on Job’s Children and Wealth (1:13-19)

D.  Job’s Response (1:20-22)

B’  Second Encounter Between Yahweh and Satan (2:1-6)

C’ The Disaster on Job’s Person (2:7-8)

D’ Job’s Response (2:9-10)

E.  Conclusion: Job Mourns with Friends (2:11-13)

As noted in previous posts, Job is a wise person whose soul, like everyone’s, has regions of fear. He fears calamity. His devotion is sincere, his piety is authentic and his wisdom is renown but he nevertheless fears for his children, as most parents do.

The Trials

Yahweh gathered the “sons of God” before his throne and among them was one designated “the accuser” because of the role he would play in the prologue. This one stands as the accuser of humanity, of Job in particular. The accuser turns Yahweh’s invitation to enjoy and delight in Job’s goodness into an accusation against Job.

The narrator introduces us to how meaningful human life is by adopting the literary convention of a “trial” within the divine assembly. Yahweh values Job’s wisdom, accentuates it, and brags about it.  The accuser questions it.  Yahweh decides to test it—and Job himself, later in the Dialogue, senses he is being tested (Job 23:10).  Job’s faith has cosmic meaning; it has a significance beyond its situated exercise in the Transjordan.

Job represents all humanity. We enter this story through Job (or sometimes through the friends).  The significance of his faith is the significance of our faith. We matter to God just as Job mattered.

And this faith must be fully tested. All the props of faith are knocked out from under Job—external blessings (children, wealth) and personal blessings (health, relationships). Ultimately, Job stands naked and alone before God. It is naked faith—no support, no props, no blessings. And Job still blesses the name of Yahweh.

The trials are not so much random acts by Yahweh as they are part of Yahweh’s management of the cosmos. Testing, probing, challenging and exercising faith through struggles is part of the means by which humans are transformed more fully and more deeply.  This is the theology of trial or testing in the hands of Yahweh as the narrator offers it to us.

The Nature of the Trials

Job’s suffering is multi-faceted. There is no easy explanation from a human point of view.  The chaos of nature—though called the “fire of God”—results in death and destruction and the moral outrages of the Sabeans and Chaldeans bring theft and death. It is seemingly chaotic, but it is not. It is specifically permitted, bounded, and empowered by Yahweh.

The narrator calls them “troubles” or “evils” (Job 2:10, 11; 42:11). It is a word that has a wide range of meaning from evil to disasters. Its basic meaning is “evil,” but in varying contexts it  may be translated “troubles” or “disasters.” It is what Job, as a wise person, avoids–he turns away from “evil” (Job 1:1, 8; 2:13), but it is also what he has received from the hand of Yahweh. The narrator uses the same word to describe what Job avoids and what Yahweh empowered.

Job experiences what theodicists have called moral and natural evil, but not ultimately at the hands of a satanic demon or a chaotic reality but by the hand of Yahweh. This is chilling, and immediately we want to find hermeneutical moves to say, “It ain’t so!” But the narrator is clear. Job himself voices it…twice (1:21; 2:10). And nothing in the coming dialogues and monologues as well as Epilogue questions that claim.

Nevertheless, interpreters have attempted to set the Prologue in tension with the rest of the literary work. For example, Yahweh does not take responsibility in the Yahweh speeches, does he? Or, does not the dialogue indicate the futility of attributing these “evils” to God? As we move through Job, we will pay attention to these supposed tensions. But I think they ultimately fail. The whole of the work—from Job in the Prologue, to the friends in the Dialogue, to Job in his monologue, to Elihu in his intervention, the narrator in the Epilogue, and, yes, even Yahweh—lays these “evils” at the feet of Yahweh.

It is for this very reason that Job feels so abandoned, so alone. Though expressing piety in his mourning, it will soon explode in a protesting theodicy. Yahweh is responsible! What’s up with that?

The Mourning Ritual

Friends do arrive. Job is no longer alone. They come to “sympathize with him and comfort him.” These terms are found in parallel in Psalm 69:20 where the lamenter bemoans the lack of support in his community.

Reproaches have broken my heart,

so that I am in despair;

  I looked for pity [sympathy], but there was none,

                    and for comforters, but I found none.

Job, too, looks for such. Perhaps he finds it, at least somewhat in the seven days of silence that his friends weep with him. I imagine this weeping is not inaudible. The silence probably refers more to the lack of dialogue rather than the lack of groaning, crying, and moaning.  The seven days may be symbolic of completeness or perhaps it is the mourning practice of an ancient culture.

The actions of the friends reflect an authentic sympathy. They care for their friend. They share his dust and they share his grief by ripping their clothes. The friends show up; they are present. Nothing need be said; nothing need be shared except the tears.

Job is no longer alone….or is he?

In my last post I noted three hermeneutical keys for reading the book of Job.  But is there dissonance within the Prologue as well that might undermine those keys? Three questions are particularly important.

1.  Is Job a Legalist?

Some think the description of Job in 1:5 is a bit neurotic. They may have a point.  Though wise, Job does seem a bit obsessed with his sacrifices for his children. Offering an animal for each child (ten, including the sisters) is certainly more than the Torah ever required and seems excessive. The motive also seems excessive since Job is not aware of any sin per se but only the potential for sin—the children may have cursed God “in their hearts.” Job does not know, so he covers his bases. And this is perceived by some as legalistic.

At the same time, a patriarchal head held responsibility for his family (cf. Genesis 8:20; 31:54; 46:1). The sacrifices may simply express a sincere piety towards God. The sacrifices bespeak his love for his children as much as they do any impropriety.

While not legalistic—as if Job is in a frantic scurry to make sure he is on God’s good side—there seems to be a latent fear in Job’s heart. He fears his children’s feasting may incur God’s judgment due to their sin. Perhaps he fears calamity. And it is ironic that the sin Job fears his children may commit is the very one which the whole poetic drama waits to see if Job will commit.  Will Job curse God?

Job 1:4-5 may have a dual purpose. It may underscore Job’s piety, but it may also illuminate Job’s fear. While Job is wise, he is not perfect. Indeed, in Job’s first lament, he will voice that what he had “greatly feared” (NJKV) had happened to him (Job 3:25). Even the wisest people sometimes still live with some fears.

What we might anticipate, then, is that while Job is wise, he still has room for growth in the fear of Yahweh. Job, though wise, is still a work in progress.

2.  Is Satan the Evil Angel?

This is a thorny question. Readers of the New Testament automatically associate this “Satan” with the figure in the Gospels (e.g., Matthew 4:10; Mark 1:13; Luke 10:18) and Paul’s epistles (e.g., 1 Corinthians 5:5; 7:5). “Satan” in Job seems to act in ways that would reflect Satanic activity in the New Testament. The association seems natural and canonical.

But it is possible that Christian translators ant tradition have made this move too easily and without critical thought. The Hebrew term “satan” simply means adversary and the noun occurs often in the Hebrew Bible in that general sense. Indeed, here the noun is not a personal name as in “Satan” but is a designation, that is, this angelic being is “the satan” or “the adversary” (like Zechariah 3:1 but unlike 1 Chronicles 21:1). The article indicates it is not a personal name any more than “the abraham” would mean “Abraham” as a name rather than “the father of a multitude.”

But whose adversary is he? He belongs among the “sons of God”—when they gather, he gathers with them. He is one of them. He is not singled out because he is different from the others but because the accusation sets up the story. He is not God’s adversary. Rather, he is humanity’s accuser, specifically Job’s accuser. He is an adversary in the sense that he questions Job’s commitment to Yahweh. The accuser does not believe that Job (or any human?) serves God for God’s sake. The accuser has centuries of evidence at his disposal.

But does not the adversary’s activity indicate his malevolence? In this context, not any more than God’s responsibility for it.  Whatever happens is attributed to Yahweh. “The satan” disappears from the rest of the book. He is not a player in the drama itself.  The poetic drama is a wrestling between God, Job,  and the friends—the adversary plays no role in the drama itself.  The role of “the satan” is not of major hermeneutical interest for the book as a whole but only as the “setup-person” for the drama itself. The resolution to whatever problem the book is addressing is not found in the function of “the satan.”

Consequently, the satan does not play a role in the resolution of the issues of the book.  The issues are solved in the sovereignty of God, not in the activity of the satan.  It is the sovereignty of God that permits the satan to act as he does.  Instead, the satan is introduced to give us the “trial framework” of Job’s suffering.  The satan is the means by which Job is tried–that is his only function in the book.  Once he has completed his task, there is no more reason for involving the character in the rest of the story.

3.  Are Job’s Responses Examples of Naiveté?

Some think that Job’s responses (Job 1:21; 2:10) to his tragedies are at best naïve statements of misguided faith and at worst fundamentally wrong and dangerous to faith despite their pious sound. The statements supposedly sound like the friends (e.g., Job 5:18). It is thought by some that these are moments when Job spoke of things he did not understand (cf. Job 42:3).

But even if it sounds like the friends (which is questionable), it sounds like Job himself throughout the dialogue, and it sounds like the narrator of the Epilogue as well (42:11), and Yahweh does not deny it. Attributing responsibility to Yahweh is one of the key truths of the whole drama itself.  How can it be naive when the whole prologue underscores the point which Job acknowledges?

At the same time, Job’s resignation and acceptance seems in tension with his lament in chapter 3 after seven days of mourning. How can such acceptance, even blessing of God, explode into lament, questioning, and anger?

I don’t find that strange. I can remember in the midst of my first days of loss a sense of faith and strength that exceeded my own expectations. But in the days and weeks ahead that strength gave way to deep lament, questioning, and anger.

I would suggest that we read Job’s responses at two levels.  First, we read it as the pious acceptance of a wise man whose faith in Yahweh shapes his engagement with life. That acceptance is later shaken, debated, discussed, and questioned…but it still ultimately remains intact throughout the dialogue.

Second, we read it as the narrator’s answer to the question raised by “the satan.” Job accepts, surrenders to, and trusts in God’s handling of the world.  Instead of “cursing” Yahweh, Job blesses Yahweh. “The satan” was wrong.

In Job’s responses we actually see the primary purpose of the book coming into play. Job models how human beings respond to suffering, but it is only the beginning of the story.  Job will go through a valley before he again returns to this loving, praise-filled, humbled acceptance. That is the journey of the dramatic poem. That is the journey of lament.  Through Job’s journey with his friends, we learn how to speak of God well (like Job) and how to speak badly (like the friends).  Job spoke well but the friends badly, according to the Epilogue (Job 42:7-8).

Job’s response is the response of Israel. “Blessed be the name of Yahweh” is a liturgical prayer within the community of faith (Psalm 113:2). Job exemplifies the proper response to suffering, to all reality, since Yahweh alone is the Lord of the universe. Job is a model for Israel and for all humanity.

If the narrative prologue is a hermeneutical lens through which we read its poetic core, then it is important to understand what the narrative projects as the hermeneutical keys for reading the dramatic poetry of Job 3:1-42:6.  I suggest at least three hermeneutical keys are found in the Prologue that enable a faithful reading of the poetic drama.

1. Job is righteous.

The narrator affirms the integrity and righteousness of Job both explicitly and insistently. The narrator’s judgment, twice in the mouth of Yahweh, is stated three times:  Job is “blameless and righteous” as one who “fears God and turns away from evil” (1:1, 8; 2:3).

Both characterizations are impressive.  The first “blameless and righteous” uses common liturgical and wisdom language. This tandem also occurs in Psalm 25:21:  “May integrity and uprightness preserve me” (cf. Psalm 37:37). It is the language that describes David’s life before God, that is, one who walked “with integrity of heart and uprightness” (1 Kings 9:4). It is wisdom language (Proverbs 2:7). “Blameless” is better understood as “integrity” rather than something akin to sinlessness. It represents something complete, whole and innocent.

The second “fearing God and turning away from evil” is essentially the epitome of wisdom itself.  Proverbs 3:7 identifies wisdom as fearing Yahweh and turning from evil (Proverbs 16:6). The wisdom poem in Job 28 ends (v. 28) places the fear of the Lord and turning away from evil at the center of wisdom.

The point, I think, is that Job is a wise person. He embodies wisdom in his culture. Yahweh affirms him.  This does not mean that Job is sinless, but it does mean that Job is a godly person who persistently lives out his faith in consistent ways.

Integrity (tam) may be the key term.  Yahweh acknowledges Job’s integrity in the narrative (2:3) and Job asserts his integrity throughout the dialogues and his monologue (9:20-21; 12:4; 27:6; 31:6). In this Job is neither arrogant nor boastful. He is honest.

Consequently, a hermeneutical key to the book is that Job is righteous.  However we read the poetic sections, Job is innocent. Nothing should undermine this point.

2.  The Central Question.

The question that occasions the troubles which issue in the whole dramatic lament is succinctly stated by the accuser in Job 1:6:  “Does Job fear God for nothing?” This is the question to which the whole drama responds.

It is a cosmic question. Is there anyone, in the whole universe, who serves God without a profit motive? Are all human beings consumers? Are there any humans who are communers, that is, interested in communing and loving God? Are humans wholly self-interested or are there any who are relationally driven? Job is paradigmatic of every person. Every person stands where Job stands—they are either consumers or communers.

Communers are those who love God for God’s own sake (a la St. Bernard’s sermon “On Loving God”). Consumers “love” God for their own sake. Communers surrender all of self to enjoy (commune with) all of God. Consumers surrender none of self but rather consume all that God gives without giving any of self to God.

The cosmic drama in Job is whether there is any human being who will love God for God’s own sake, or do all humans serve God for profit. The wicked ask, “what profit do we get if we pray to him?” (Job 21:15.) As the embodiment of wisdom, what will Job do?

Consequently, this question sizzles underneath the dialogue and is the root issue between God and Job. This question is the pair of glasses we need to wear as we read Job.

3.  Divine Responsibility.

“The accuser” (Satan?) gets far too much credit. Clearly, Satan goes out from Yahweh’s presence and acts (1:12; 2:7a). But he does so by Yahweh’s (1) direct permission, (2) within Yahweh’s boundaries, and (3) through Yahweh’s empowerment.

The narrator makes this point through the metaphor of the “hand” of God. Satan requests the extension of God’s hand and God extends it (that is, God acts) but with restrictions (1:11,12; 2:5).  Yahweh is not passive but active; Yahweh is not engaged in laissez-faire management of the cosmos. On the contrary, Yahweh empowers the accuser to act.

Consequently, a hermeneutical key is that Yahweh is responsible for what happened to Job. Indeed, Job claims this and he does so in the language of the prologue (narrator):  “Whom among all these does not know that the hand of Yahweh has done this?” (Job 12:9.)  Both of Job’s responses locate responsibility solely in God’s hands (Job 1:21; 2:9). To divert responsibility to the accuser is to undermine the sovereignty of Yahweh in this narration.

Conclusion

It seems to me that if we do not recognize these three hermeneutical principles, the deeper meaning of the book of Job will elude us as we misconstrue Job’s statements and miss the point that Yahweh intends to make in answering the accuser’s question.

The Prologue (Job 1-2) and the Epilogue (Job 42:7-17) are the narrative frame for the poetic dialogues and monologues (Job 3-42:6) that are the heart of the book.  Though it is unfortunate that many only know the narrative frame (the story of Job) and ignore the central core of the book that is the real point of the work, the dialogues are relatively vacuous without the narrative frame. The narratives provide the setting, content and background knowledge necessary to understanding the dialogues. They provide the hermeneutical key for reading the poetic drama.

Generally, I regard Job as a poetic drama, a dramatic lament (much like Westermann). The poems (dialogues and monologues) are the Acts in the play.  The Prologue and Epilogue function as pre- and post-action narrations. The Prologue sets the stage, permits us to see what no one on earth could have seen, and provides some sure footings for interpreting the coming Acts.

The function of the Prologue is similar to the way narrations (in words or audibly narrated) precede the classic movies Star Wars and The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring. The narrations are not themselves part of the action/play of the movie, but they provide a hermeneutical lens for viewing the film.  In the same way, the Prologue gives the hearer (reader) a particular world in which to understand the coming Acts. We know how to hear the dialogue because the Prologue has given us some hermeneutical keys. Our reading of the poems is guided by the world the narrator has given us. The poems must be read within the narrative frame provided by the final author/editor* just as the The Lord of the Rings can only be understood in the framework of the introductory narration.

If this is the case, how we read the prologue is extremely important. And we will begin to do that tomorrow.

**I understand that contemporary scholarship generally believes that the literary work we call “Job” has undergone literary development. Some believe that the Dialogues were an independent work to which the narratives were added, and others believe the narrative was a story to which the Dialogues were added. I think it is impossible to decide which came first, and it is impossible to discern exactly how this work evolved. It is also quite possible—I think most likely—that the document is the work of a single author.  At the very least, the final editor has given us the work as a literary unit.  The final editor thought it worked as a whole, and the position of the framing narratives is how the final author gives it us. We really don’t have it in any other form. This is the form in which I will read it.**

There are many uncertainties about the origin and composition of the book of Job. The author is anonymous. There are no clear indications of date.  Nevertheless, I here offer my own summation of what I think is the best understanding.  Following my summation, I provide a bullet point list of some of the significant data which is subject to a variety of interpretations.

I suggest that Job is a literary unity which arose either in the late pre-exilic or early post-exilic period of Israel’s history (anywhere from 700-400 BCE).  As part of the wisdom culture of Israel, it is at least post-Solomonic and, it seems to me, that the prominence of the Edomite setting suggests (slightly) a pre-exilic date. But a post-exilic date is also quite possible (maybe even likely if we think the theology of Job is intended to help Israel deal with the implications of the exile for their nation).

However, the setting of the book is more suited to the patriarchial period (Abraham to Jacob). Further, Job and his friends are most likely Edomites or at least Transjordanian. Also, the Hebrew wisdom author creatively situates the participants poetic sections in the past. The author creates the impression that while the narrative arises out Hebrew wisdom and language, the dialogue bears the marks of internationalization through the use of Aramaisms and ancient names for God.

Our author, in short, provides a wisdom lesson through the experience of Edomite wise men a millennium previous to his own time much like we might teach a contemporary lesson through the use of medieval characters. He seeks to teach his own culture (Israel) a wisdom lesson about God, suffering and faith that he thought they needed to hear. Perhaps if we gain a more precise understanding of the “lesson,” we might be able to situate the author more specifically in his own history.

Bottom line….we don’t know much. But we do have a piece of literature that is regarded as world-class literature and functions as Scripture for both Jews and Christians.

Date and Authorship

Who knows? Who can tell? How can anyone tell?

• The book is anonymous—no author claims it.
• The book is undated—it is not located in any particular history.
• The fact that authorities propose dates and authors spanning a millennium indicates that the evidence is inconclusive (Pope, Job [Anchor Bible], xl).

What do we know?

• It is part of the Hebrew canon with the Hebrew name of God.
• Targum of Job from Qumran Cave XI dates from around 100 BCE
• Names, places and particulars are consistent with ANE.
• Story is located outside of Israelite culture (internationalization). Situated in Transjordan (Arabia, Edom), the milieu is patriarchal (e.g., monetary unit in Job 42:11 is only found in Genesis 33:19 and Joshua 24:32).
•  Sirach (Ecc 49:9) and Testament of Job mention Job dating it before 200 BCE.

What are the proclivities?

• Evidence of inner-Biblical discourse: dialogue with the Hebrew canon (e.g., Psalm 8?).
• The final edition assumes a Hebrew metanarrative as a hermeneutical lens.
• Placement in the “Writings” may indicate later date (perhaps exilic or postexilic).
• There is nothing in Israel’s history or literature that suggests that such a wisdom document could have appeared before the emergence of wisdom conventions in Israel during the Solomonic era at the earliest.
• Job is mentioned in Ezekiel 14:14, 20—but is it oral or written tradition?
• The theme may fit exilic or postexilic Judah best, and there appear to be close connections between Job and Jeremiah’s laments as well as Second Isaiah (40-55).
• Job has many Aramaisms which may indicate a late date (Persian period) but for others it reflects the author’s intentional internationalization of the work (Aramaisms appear in the poems but not in the narrative).[1]
• The Hebrew of Job is elegant and intricate; indeed, it is “richer than that of any other biblical text” (Greenstein, 652). It is not a work of translation from another ancient language. This is a Hebrew original.
• Persian characteristics may include nomenclature of officials, development of “satan” (like Zechariah 3), but choice of Edomite wisdom may not suit Israel after 587 BCE. (Edomite names dominate; cf. Genesis 36:4, 11 and Uz is identified with Edom in Lamentations 4:21; Edom was known for its wisdom, Jeremiah 49:7; Obadiah 8.)
• The names of God define the narrator as Hebrew but the dialogue as deliberately set in a  non-Hebrew or more ancient setting.[2]

Genre

• Options include:  Dramatic Lament (Westermann), Lawsuit (Sutherland), Controversy Dialogue (Crenshaw), Epic (Sarna), Greek Tragedy (Kallen), or Parable (Maimonides).
• The Most Significant ANE Parallels:  “Babylonian Theodicy” (1000 BCE; a poetic dialogue of a questioning sufferer with a friend with traditional views and concluding that traditional views are inadequate) and the Akkadian “I Will Praise the Lord of Wisdom” [Ludlul Bel Nemeqi] (600-1150 BCE; a monologue lamenting suffering which is perceived as punishment from the gods).[3]  There are other texts that parallel in different ways from Egypt and Mesopotamia (see Pope’s introduction to Job in the Anchor Bible series).
• But Job is unique in length, variety of genre, theology, , etc. But it does share a common ANE wisdom concern with some similar strategies: the justice of God and human suffering.

Composition

Some suggest this process (critics have different orders but these are the components):

Stage 1:  The Dialogues As Original (chapters 3-31, excluding chapter 28)

Stage 2:  The Prologue/Epilogue Added (chapters 1-2, 42:7-17)

Stage 3:  The Yahweh Speeches Added (chapters 38-42:6)

Stage 4:  The Elihu Speeches Added (chapters 32-37)

Stage 5:  The Wisdom Poem Added (chapter 28).

   Rationale

• International vs. Hebrew (e.g., Yahwehist) sections (intentional or two works?)
• Prologue/Epilogue may have been adapted from an oral, ancient folktale.
• Strong contrast between Narrative and Dialogues (intentional or clumsy?)
• ANE literature has Dialogues without Prose (but some with both, eg., Egypt).
• Elihu is not mentioned in the Prologue/Epilogue or Dialogue (potential rationale?)
• Wisdom Poem as Final Compiler’s resolution (or as part of Job’s speech?)

Where Are We?

• Uncertainty about literary development (no textual history to suggest it).
• The possibility of reading the text as a whole (a final editor at least read it that way).
• The possibility that the text is from a single person, lacks literary growth and is the work of a skilled poet who plays with dissonance within the text.
• Developmental theories are primarily rooted in hermeneutical moves (e.g., “this does not make sense unless we suppose that “X” was added later, as in “Satan” is not mention in the Dialogues or Elihu is not mentioned in the Epilogue).  Hermeneutics will then judge.
• The final editor (however that happened) thought the work was coherent, and the community of faith embraced it as a way of serving faith.

Canonical Theology

As part of the canon—both Hebrew and Christian—we embrace the conviction that Job is “word of God” to us. This is a theological commitment linked to community, tradition, and the existential power of the text.

Consequently, we read in hope that God will use this ancient book to transform us and shape us into a people who serve as a light to the nations.

Jesus went into the water (Jordan), then he was thrown into the wilderness, and finally he went into Galilee. Mark structurally highlights this movement with the use of the preposition into (εíς). Each of these events has multiple layers of significance and meaning.

At one level, they are rehearsals of the life of Israel. Jesus, as the faithful remnant of Israel, went through the water like Israel in the Exodus, went into the wilderness as Israel did for 40 years, and entered Galilee with hope and promise just as Israel occupied the promised land under Joshua. [Matthew draws the analogy between Galilee and a light coming into the darkness in Matthew 4:12-17, quoting Isaiah 9.]  Jesus is reliving the life of Israel in his own life. This includes his ministry in Galilee and ultimately Judea as well.

Jesus’ ministry continues the ministry of Israel. Just as Israel was a witness to the presence of God in the world as a light to the nations, so Jesus inaugurates that mission by serving Israel and ultimately sending his church among the nations. Israel came out of the wilderness to minister among the nations, and Jesus comes out of the wilderness to minister in Israel as he prepares a people to minister among the nations.

At another level, the church follows Jesus into the water, follows Jesus into the wilderness, and embraces his work (mission) as its own.

Once John is in prison, the way is clear for the ministry of Jesus to emerge as the primary focus of the kingdom of God in the world. Jesus heralds (announces) the good news of God.  What is the good news? The headliner of the Gospel of Mark (1:1) says it is related to Jesus–belonging to him or about him. Here Mark specifies the good news.

When Jesus heralds the good news of God, he says: “The kingdom of God has drawn near.” This is the time of God’s visitation; the time of God’s in-breaking. “The time is fulfilled.” It is now.

As we read through the Gospel of Mark, we will see more clearly what the “kingdom of God” is and how its appearance is good news. Simply, the reign of God has made a new appearance in the fallen world to redeem what is broken. God’s justice will set things right, God’s mercy will heal the broken, and God’s peace will reign in the world. This comes in the person of Jesus who is the reign of God embodied.

This gospel announcement calls for a response:  repent and believe, or reform and trust.  Some theologians have based a technical point on the order of “repent and believe” in Mark 1:15. But this is overreading. The function of “repent” here is the same as it was for John the Baptist. It is a call for reformation on the part of Israel. The people must align themselves with the purposes of the gospel, the reign of God, through repentance and reformation of life. Penitent, they trust the good news; they trust that God is really going to bring his reign to the earth. So, the response is repent in preparation for the coming kingdom and trust that it is really going to happen.

This text calls the church into ministry as well.  Just as we followed Jesus into the water and followed him into the wilderness, so we follow him into ministry. We, too, herald the coming of the kingdom of God, calling people to repent and believe, reform and trust. The ministry of Jesus is our ministry.

Through reading the Gospel of Mark, we learn from Jesus and embrace his mission. We follow him by heralding the good news and practicing the good news in our lives and among the nations.

This semester at Lipscomb I am teaching an intensive Bible Major class on Job and Ecclesiastes. I am excited about the class and literally am sitting on the edge of my seat to see what God does every class period with myself and sixteen students. Over the semester, I hope to blog a bit about our journey as time permits.

As a beginning, I have provided below a structural outline for reading Job. If it does not seem helpful at the moment, perhaps after further posts through the book it may become so. At least, it helps me.  Maybe it will you as well.  Here it is.  Read the book of Job with me over the coming weeks.

1.  Narrative Prologue (Job 1-2):  Yahweh, Satan and Job.

a.  Introduction (Job 1:1-5):  Righteous Job.

b.  First Trial (Job 1:6-22):  Blessed Be the Name of the Lord.

c.  Second Trial (Job 2:1-10):  Accepting Trouble with Integrity.

d.  Silent Lament (Job 2:11-13):  Meditating on Suffering.

2.  Poetic Drama (Job 3:1-42:6):  The Dialogues and Monologues

a.  First Act:  Dialogues (Job 3-27).

(1) Opening Lament (Job 3):  “Why was I Born?”

(2) First Dialogue Cycle (Job 4-14):  Repent!

Eliphaz (4-5):  Offers hope in discipline (5:17-27).

Job (6-7):  Friends are dry streams (6:15-21).

Bildad (8):  God will yet deliver you if you repent (8:6-20).

Job (9-10):  Who am I, even if I am blameless (9:20).

Zophar (11):  Job is self-righteous (11:4-5), so repent (11:13).

Job (12-14):  You are telling me nothing new; just listen (13:1-2, 13ff).

(3) Second Dialogue Cycle (Job 15-21):  Attempt to Shut Up the Lament.

Eliphaz (15):  Lament undermines piety and expresses sin (15:4).

Job (16-17):  You are miserable comforters (16:2) and ignorant (17:12).

Bildad (18):  Cease your lament; we know evil is punished (18:2,21).

Job (19):  You attack me; please have pity (19:2, 21-22, 28).

Zophar (20):  The joy of the wicked is brief (20:5-6).

Job (21):  The counsel is false; the wicked do not always suffer (21:34).

(4) Third Dialogue Cycle (Job 22-27):  Giving Up on Job’s Conceit.

Eliphaz (22):  Even if you were righteous, so what (22:3)?

Job (23-24):  God is listening; I will speak my lament (23:6,17; 24:1).

Bildad (25):  No one can be righteous (25:4).

Job (26):  You offer no insight, just futility (26:3).

[No speech by Zophar, but a literary break is indicated by 27:1]

Job (27):  Job speaks to God with integrity (27:1-6).

b.  Second Act:  The Monologues (Job 28-42:6)

(1) Opening Wisdom Poem (Job 28) – Narrator or Job?  Fearing Yahweh is Wisdom.

(2) First Monologue:  Job (Job 29-31; speech renewed 29:1)

What it was like Then (29):  Righteous and Respected.

What it is like Now (30):  Lament.

Self-Imprecation (31):  If I had sinned, then I should be judged; but I have not.

(3) Second Monologue:  Elihu (Job 32-37)

First Speech (32-33):  God disciplines (33:14,26-31); Job is self-righteous (33:9).

Second Speech (34):  God is just (34:12); Job deserved suffering (34:5,9,11)

Third Speech (35):  God is transcendent; Job is wicked (35:2-7).

Fourth Speech (36-37):  God is active; listen Job (37:14).

(4) Third Monologue:  Yahweh (Job 38-42:6)

First Speech (38:1-40:2):  Don’t You See How I Care for My World?

Job’s First Response (40:3-5):  I am unworthy.

Second Speech (40:6-41:34):  Don’t You See How I Control Evil?

Job’s  Second Response (42:1-6):  I praise you.

3.  Narrative Epilogue (Job 42:7-17)

a.  Yahweh and the Friends (42:7-9).

b.  Yahweh and Job (42:10-17).

Sink or swim? Sound familiar? Some learned to swim by a parent throwing them into the pool. Perhaps that is not a good idea, but it appears analogous to what God did with Jesus…or maybe not.

Rising from the waters of baptism, Jesus is anointed with the Holy Spirit. The Father affirms him, loves him, and expresses his pure delight in him. And, then….

“immediately the Spirit throws him out into the desert” (Mark 1:12, my translation).

No waiting. No down-time. No pampering. Jesus went “immediately” into wilderness bootcamp.

Indeed, the Spirit of God drove him there.  “Sent” is too watered-down for the Greek verb here (éκβáλλει).  It is mostly used in Mark for casting out demons (Mark 1:34, 39; 3:15, 23, and many other places), but also for tearing/plucking out an eye if it cause offense (Mark 9:47) and expelling someone from a place (Mark 12:8), including the money-changers from the temple (Mark 11:15). It has forceful overtones. Jesus is thrown or driven into the wilderness.

What was the purpose of this experience, of this “thrownness”? Given Mark’s theological purpose to locate Jesus in the history of Israel–Jesus is the suffering servant (a new Moses) who will lead Israel out of exile into abundance–we might find help in the story of Israel’s wilderness sojourn.  Mark has already interpreted John’s ministry as one that belongs to the New Exodus (earlier quoting Isaiah 40). Jesus has passed through the water, just as Israel passed through the sea, and just as they spent 40 years in the Sinai wilderness, so Jesus spends 40 days in the Judean wilderness.

We can see the meaning of the wilderness experience for those who entered the promised land with the help of Deuteronomy 8–a text that Jesus quotes in the wilderness, according to Matthew and Luke. The text describes Israel’s experience as a testing, humbling and discipling one. Israel was tested to reveal what is in their hearts. They were humbled in their dependence upon God. They were discipled in the wilderness.

This, I think, is the meaning of the wilderness for Jesus….and for us. Jesus is tested in an hostile environment–Satan is present as well as wild animals. Only Mark mentions the wild animals which probably reflects not only the hostility of the environment but also connects with Mark’s Roman readers who themselves would endure wild beasts in their own testing (persecution). Jesus is tested, humbled and discipled in the wilderness.

And so are we. Mark’s Roman readers probably saw themselves in this same situation–persecution was their wilderness.  That wilderness continues for many Christians across the globe today, but there are also many different kinds of wilderness experiences. Those experiences test us as they reveal our hearts, they humble us as we recognize our powerlessness and dependency on God, and they disciple us as they train us for the mission of God.

And, yet, we are not abandoned in the wilderness. We are not left alone. Angels ministered to Jesus, and they minister to us as well (cf. Hebrews 1:14). God is present with us in the wilderness and that presence strengthens us and empowers us to endure the wilderness.

Wild beasts (theria) is the language of Gen 1-3. It is these “wild animals” Israel is to leave some crops for them to eat along with the poor (Ex. 23:11), and it is part of the promise of Eden in a new land (Lev. 26:6) as well as the multiplication of them in the land as part of the chaos resulting from sin (Lev. 26:22; Ex. 23:29). It is part of creation in which God rejoices (Ps. 50:10; 104:11, 20; 148:10). The beast did not harm Paul (Acts 28:4). The non-threatening nature of the wild beasts may reflect Jesus’s own Edenic picture.

The wilderness story of Israel is also Jesus’s story, and Jesus’ story is our story. Just as we followed Jesus into the water, so we follow him into the wilderness….or perhaps, God will throw us out into the wilderness if we don’t follow him there. And God will be there, too.

If God “throws” us into the water, he does not idly watch us struggle. On the contrary God joins us in the pool and helps us swim to safety.

Wisdom and Folly are personified as women in Proverbs 1-9 on several occasions. Proverbs 9, coming just before the beginning of the “Proverbs of Solomon” in Proverbs 10, is the final appeal of the parent/teacher/elder to heed wisdom rather than folly. It functions as an “altar call” or the invitation poem (Hebrew invitation song?). The parent/teacher/elder appeals one last time to the “simple” (inexperienced) child/student/youth to listen to wisdom.

Wisdom built her own house; she built creation itself as God created the world through her (8:22-36). Wisdom is prepared. She sacrifices her own meat, mixes her own wine and sets her own table.  But Folly is loud (a good show, but no substance), herself simple (how can she, then, really help the simple?) and ignorant (she does not know how to help). She has no resources of her own but roars with her own boisterousness.

Wisdom is active. She calls by actively seeking others. She sends people out to invite others (much like the host in Luke 14). Folly waits for others to find her (and she is not hard to find). They are both visible (highest points), but they have different methods. Wisdom actively sends but Folly waits. Wisdom calls by seeking and Folly calls through patient entrapment. Folly waits for the simple to fall into her trap, perhaps attracted by her roaring.

Wisdom offers her own bread and wine. She gives out of her own resources.  Folly, however, offers stolen water and eats bread in secret. Wisdom’s invitation is public, open and transparent.  Folly invites us to secrecy and isolation. I’m reminded how addictions (drugs, alcohol, sex, etc.) find vitality in secrecy and isolation. They bring death. Wisdom is transparent.

Wisdom urges us to leave our simple ways and live in her light, to walk through life with her insight. But Folly makes no promises. Rather, in foolishness we are awakened to the reality that the guests at her banquet inhabit Sheol. Wisdom brings life but Folly brings death.

We live in the creation that wisdom built. It is best to live by that wisdom–and the beginning of that wisdom is the fear of Yahweh (Proverbs 9:10; cf. 1:7; 31:30). When we live within the creation in ways that reflect that wisdom, we experience life with more serenity. But when we live within the creation in foolish ways, then we experience chaos and turmoil. God made the world so that round pegs fit round holes, but when, in our foolishness, we try to put a round peg into a square hole, something breaks. We break. The creation is built for a particular kind of living, that is, living by the fear of Yahweh. Any other kind of living leads to brokenness.

Jesus said something similar at the end of the Sermon on the Mount.  The gate is wide and the road is broad that leads to destruction but the gate is small and the road narrow that leads to life (Matthew 7:13-14). It is the difference between life and death; it is the difference between wisdom and foolishness.

Wise people, Jesus said, build their houses on rocks and good foundations–foundations like the wisdom embodied in the Sermon on the Mount. But foolish people, Jesus said, build their houses on shifting sand.  The former house stands strong as it was built by wisdom, but the house built on foolishness collapses.

Alas! I have often found it much easier to sing the children’s song than to heed its advice.

How do we read a Gospel as Scripture?

By “Gospel” I mean the literary genre itself. A Gospel announces good news and our canonical Gospels locate this good news in Jesus, particularly his ministry, death and resurrection.

It has been common for modern readers to think of the Gospels as primarily or fundamentally history or even biography. When read through this lens our response is to believe the facts or to believe the story. We confess it; we acknowledge it; we recite it.  As confessors of the story, the church has sometimes reduced it to a history lesson. These are the facts we believe. Or, we might reduce the story to a list of creedal statements.

There is certainly nothing improper about believing the story or even acknowledging the facts which the narrative asserts. The problem is when we think of this as the only or even primary purpose of the Gospels themselves.

In this mode of reading, the Gospels are preambles to Christian living. They are the evidence of Jesus and once we believe the evidence and become Christians, then we move on to the Epistle or the rest of the New Testament to find out what it means to be Christian or how to live as Christians.  The Gospels, then, are functionally evidentiary; they are practically, if not solely, apologetic tools.  In this construal, they tell the story we believe but not the story we live.

I think the Gospels are much more than that.

The function of the Gospels is not merely to tell the story like a witness in a courtroom, but more like a storyteller who draws the hearer into the drama itself. The Gospels invite us to participate in the story of Jesus and not simply believe it. They call us to follow Jesus and not simply believe in him as an artifact of history.

The Gospels are not fundamentally histories but narratives. They are historical, to be sure, but they are more appropriately regarded as stories that project a world in which we are invited to live. The Gospels invite us to live out the story of Jesus in our own lives.

We follow Jesus into the water. We follow him into the wilderness.  We follow him into ministry–to the tables of the marginalized, to the sick and diseased, to the broken and hurting. We follow him to the cross and die with him daily. And, one day, we will follow him into glory where our mortal bodies will be transformed into the likeness of his resurrected body.

The story of Jesus is our story. The Gospels are our narratives. They are not historical artifacts or pieces of mere evidentiary history. They are the story of our lives as disciples of Jesus.