Unitarian Universalist Meeting of South Berkshire

 

 

February 18, 2007

 

 

“Job and the Whirlwind:  A Message for Our Time?”

 

 

Rev. Kathy Duhon

 

                                               

            Many weeks ago I chose the subject of the suffering Job for this Sunday, but it seems especially appropriate now – in our community many deaths have occurred this week that have us all reeling – I’ve been to two funerals in the last three days.  And some of us met with the ACORN staff person yesterday who verifies how horrible it is, still, in New Orleans, made worse by violence, a tornado, and corruption.  And the news around the world of war and disaster has been just as bad as ever, if not worse.  Perhaps Job and his suffering is always a relevant subject.

            I wonder how many of you have read the Book of Job in the Bible.  Surely, many among you have at least heard of this man of suffering and his conversation/debate with his challenging friends, and the drama arising between Job and God.  This is not history – it is myth and poetry and a moving story.  You may have heard the expression about “the patience of Job”, which comes from the Christian Scriptures, but isn’t a good translation – it should be the “endurance, or the perseverance, of Job” – for Job was not patient.

            The Book of Job explores some of the basic questions that continue to plague us.  Why do bad things happen to good people?  Is success deserved?  Is religion only a fair-weather phenomenon?  How do we approach those who are suffering?  Do we blame the victim, even in subtle ways?  Are we ashamed or defensive when we ourselves suffer?  Is God responsible for suffering?  Does God comfort the sufferer?  Is God even relevant or real, given the enormity of suffering that exists?  What can it possibly mean to be religious when you are deeply suffering?  Does it really help the sufferer to believe that there is a plan, or that the mystery of why things happen the way they do is just beyond our comprehension?  Is there any help for the sufferer?

            I remember quite well when I first read The Book of Job.  I was in college taking a world religion seminar, called a “tutorial”.  Every week we read a book and wrote a 2 page response paper, then discussed the subject in our small group.  One week we read Rudolph Otto’s book, The Idea of the Holy.  Another week we read The Bhagavad Gita.  For the week we read The Book of Job, the topic for our small paper was “Compare and contrast the figure of Arjuna in The Bhagavad Gita with the figure of Job in the Hebrew Scriptures in light of Otto’s idea of the Holy”, a ponderous topic indeed. 

            I have a rebellious streak – it doesn’t show up too often, but when it does, watch out!  I decided that the topic was awful and that I, sufferer that I was as a college student, wanted to write a paper only on Job, on suffering.  I ignored the topic, wrote my heart out, and got the worst grade I ever received.  I was invited to re-write the paper, to actually do the assignment, and I righteously refused.  Why be scholarly when religion was calling me to wade in the turbulent waters?

            Now that I am older, I realize that my college idea of suffering was very small, quite unworthy of the name – I would have been better off being scholarly than falling into the same righteous trap that is explored in the Book of Job.  It’s not that I didn’t suffer – we all suffer, and I have suffered since, with a wider range of experience.  The older we are, the more we suffer, simply from the more time spent living.  We suffer physical pain, emotional distress, spiritual affliction.  We suffer from what has been done hurtfully to us and what we have done wrong, or not done right.  We suffer because of fear, loss, despair, anger, injustice, hatred.

            But perhaps you, like I, realize that a larger suffering exists which we are not privy to, which we do not begin to understand.  I may be wrong, of course – some of you may very well understand the worst that life can bring you.  Last summer, when Bill Schulz spoke to the ministers about torture at our meeting before General Assembly, he said that we ought to be mindful that, whatever we do in a religious service, it is still worthy to someone listening, if that person had been tortured.  He cautioned that we shouldn’t be “upsy daisy”, fluffy, lightweight liturgists.   

            I have not suffered in the worst ways.  I have not suffered by being tortured, nor by torturing, nor by engaging in the horrors of war with my own body.  None of my beloved have died by violence or by privation.  I have not had to live with multiple losses and sufferings all jammed together in a short space of time.  I have not been dragged through the horror and humiliation of a crime against my humanity.  I suspect that none of you here have suffered in the worst ways imaginable, but I might be wrong.  Suffering is so hidden sometimes.

            Not for Job.  Suffering was unbearably public.  Let me tell you his story.  At the beginning, it starts in the heavenly assembly, where Satan, who is only an adversary, not yet developed into the demon of the Christian Scriptures, challenges God about Job.  He basically says that Job is only a good, righteous person who worships God because his life is so good.  He is prosperous, has ten successful grown children, and much to make him happy.  By the way, Job is from the Land of Uz – he is not a Hebrew.  This would be like us telling a folktale about a Native American from the Canadian Rockies a few centuries ago – this was always meant to be a story.  The point of this heavenly scene is to open up the question about whether religion is just for those who are successful – whether it makes any sense to those who are suffering.

            God agrees to the challenge, to testing Job, as it were, and several calamities befall all of his livestock and his children, one right after the other, until all are dead and destroyed.  Job is in mourning, but still is blameless and worships God.  Satan returns to God with the further challenge that Job himself should be afflicted.  Then Job gets a skin disease that is both excruciatingly painful and hideous to behold.  Job is suffering greatly.

            Three friends, Eliphaz, Zophar, and Bildad, who are professional wise men, come from far away.  They also are not Hebrew, which means that this story is supposed to represent a universal truth for all humanity.  They begin by weeping and sitting with Job silently for seven days and nights, in witness to his suffering.  A point is made here about comforting the sufferer – sometimes it is good to just be present, not to have the perfect words, but to come from away and be with the person who is in pain, sharing their suffering with tears, with silence, with accompaniment.

            Job speaks first, cursing the day he was born and asking “Why” many times.  This introduces much of the main part of the book, when the three friends and Job take turns talking about his situation, debating it, trying to understand and explain what is happening, and what needs to happen.  A fourth person jumps in toward the end, Elihu, although that seems to be a later addition to the text.

            Eliphaz speaks first.  He is older, gentle, and truly cares for Job, beginning by complimenting him.  He moves on to question whether anyone can be righteous, noticing that trouble is very common.  He then tells Job what many of us have been told, or told ourselves – suffering will make you stronger and everything will be good again.  Subtly, Eliphaz says that Job must have done something wrong and needs to be disciplined by God, a path which will lead him back to the good life.  

            Whether you believe in God or not, as Unitarian Universalists, as liberal religious people, we have completely rejected the idea of divine retributive justice, where the evil are punished with bad things happening, and the good are rewarded with prosperity.  It doesn’t make sense to us – that’s not how the world works.  The Book of Job is an attempt to refute that theological stance, but it was still around in Jesus’ day when he tried to refute it again, and it is still around today.  Disasters such as happened on September 11th or continue to be ongoing in New Orleans are represented by certain Christian fundamentalists as being punishment from God for sin.  How we rail against such an abomination of a world view.  If only those preachers would go back to study the Book of Job.  Even without God in the picture, though, people tend toward this basic premise, that somehow the bad things in life are deserved, the fault of the sufferer, and the good things in life are also deserved, the reward for good behavior.  We like cause and effect, order and explanation, and we can divide the world into we versus them. 

            When Job answers, he complains and wishes that God would just crush him, and calls his friends “treacherous”, who give him only “proverbs of ashes” and are “afraid” of his calamity.  The fear part is very perceptive.  It is the suffering we fear that we try to box up and explain away, often blaming the victim.  We may not drag God into it, but we are at times not above talking about how someone’s life decisions and those of their parents (the old Biblical “sins of the fathers”?) made this horrible calamity happen to them, whether it is cancer or an accident or even violence. 

            We are meant to see ourselves in the figures of the friends.  They are sometimes solicitous, but they also become critical, sarcastic, judgmental, righteous, and definitely think they know the solution, which they are anxious to tell to Job.  They have the advice that he needs – do you know anyone who has brought you the advice they were sure you needed when all you really needed was for them to hold your hand?

            Job says that he is innocent and that God is targeting him for no reason – he challenges God to show him what he has done wrong.  Job is both sticking to his integrity, demanding respect for the truth of his innocence, and also falling down a rabbit hole.  Now his righteousness blinds him to another truth – he believes the theology too – he thinks that he is being punished falsely, so God is unjust.  He believes that God owes him prosperity because he’s been good.  Job says that he is innocent, but his theology means that God must be guilty.

            Any challenge to God just makes those friends see red and hunker down even further into their beliefs, so instead of being there for Job’s comfort or even his redemption, they slip into justifying their own understanding of the world, another trap.

            Job goes through many of the experiences of a sufferer – he thinks maybe he can forget and put on a happy face; he wonders if he could have done something wrong, but keeps coming back to his innocence.  He wants to be left alone and then he wants to fight.  He is angry, sad, complaining, clear-spoken, and feels lost in the dark and chaos.  Job hates being a laughingstock, losing his power, being abandoned and despised, but he also begins to notice the suffering of others, and how unfair it is for them as well.

            Job wants to take his case to God; his friends say he is making trouble and that he does not understand.  At one point, Job calls them “miserable comforters” and wonders why they keep talking, but also realizes that if he were in their place, he might say some of the same things.  Job is changing over the course of his speeches.  But he also keeps sinking into thoughts about the comfort of death, feeling hopeless.

            The friends become less and less friendly, not even addressing Job so much as making speeches about wickedness.  Job says the wicked often prosper – he is beginning to see the way of the world more clearly, while his friends sink ever deeper into theological morass, saying that mortals are really of no use to God, even the righteous, but that God is certainly just.

            Job says that sometimes he cannot perceive God.  Bill Schulz, the previous director of Amnesty International, is a Humanist who says he has recently become more comfortable using the word God.  But he said that God is absent in the torture cell.  And that is not just his belief – no one he has spoken to can find God in their deepest suffering, other than as absent.  God is sometimes absent for Job and he feels dread.  And sometimes Job believes God is cruel, to himself and to the needy.

            After much talk, and at the point when everything seems irreconcilable, God speaks to Job out of the whirlwind, which is a typical way for God to appear in the Hebrew Scriptures.  At this point, you’d think God would own up to this being a test and Job being innocent, or would at least explain that neither good behavior is rewarded with material benefit, nor bad behavior punished with calamity.  You’d think that God would offer comfort at least.  We heard the beginning of God’s speech, a number of cosmic questions, like, “Have you comprehended the expanse of the earth?”, “Is it by your wisdom that the hawk soars?”  Some who study the Bible say these are playful questions; others say they are hard; most notice that they re-direct the way to perceive the issue. 

            Divine retributive justice isn’t even worth being discussed.  Nor is any kind of a case against God, whether God is just or unjust in dealing with the world.  The questions are never answered, although most feel that they point to the strength and mystery of God and the universe.  I’m intrigued that they are only ever questions, as though there is not an answer, or at least not a rational one, for the meaning of suffering.

            Whether a theist or a non-theist, the larger point is clear here.  There is no good answer for suffering – the world is a world of questions and relationships, and bad things happen.  There is a long discussion about the silly ostrich who leaves its eggs on the ground to be trampled – if they are, it’s not evil, it just is.  The questions center on the natural world and the way the world is, and suffering is only one part of the world, along with the wonders. 

            After many, many questions, Job mumbles something about being small and not talking anymore.  He is speechless.  One commentator thinks that Job is still not satisfied, and is essentially defiantly not answering the “no” that would be expected – ‘no I wasn’t at the beginning of the world’, but implying, “If you’re going to be like that, God, I have nothing more to say.”

            God tries again, with a strong next speech and a challenge for Job.  What if Job were in charge of it all?  God says I made Behemoth, which is the symbol of chaos and evil, “just as I made you”.  Behemoth can seem like a loveable monster, but then there is Leviathan, another symbol of chaos and evil, described in terrifying detail, with the question, “Who can confront it and be safe?”  Again, the awful stuff in the world, evil, chaos, is just a part of the world, and not something that can always be controlled, even if we think we can be in charge of it all.  Job cannot control his lot by the power of his moral innocence – there are more forces to contend with that are beyond Job’s or anyone’s ability to handle.

            Job is not to be condemned for his suffering, nor is God, nor the universe.  Suffering is inherent in the way things are – that is the final message of the Book of Job.  You’d think that would really leave Job depressed, but somehow it is enough, just as it is enough for some who suffer today to realize that there is no blame, no why – it simply is what it is.  The text says that Job repents, which seems surprising, since he didn’t do anything wrong, but Job repents of dust and ashes, which means he repents of the signs of repentance – he casts aside the religious teaching and actions of his day to embrace the truth which is revealed to him about the world.

            The final part of the book has Job saying that I really understand, where I didn’t before, and that God is strong and purposeful and also a big mystery that I don’t understand, either.  Job has a change of mind and heart and he gains humility.  Then, God finishes up by really letting the three friends have it for not speaking the right way to Job – they have to apologize and make it right with Job, whose prayer for them will be important.  How did they mess up so badly, those religious three?  By being so certain that they knew the way of God and the way of the world that they did not leave room for the Mystery, for Truth, for Compassion.  It is only after Job prays for his friend-enemies that he is restored his fortunes and then some, and even gets 10 more children and lives another 140 years.  The book ends, “And Job died, old and full of days.”

            God speaks out of the whirlwind, out of the turbulent places, but not to give an answer, to ask questions – that is a real Unitarian Universalist-style God.  And yet the truth is revealed, that prospering and suffering are not signs of either goodness nor badness, that you shouldn’t just accept the religious or usual understanding if it does not ring true to you, that you should contend when you are concerned and express your despair, anger, doubt, truth, suffering, and that you should be compassionate and not judgmental to those who are suffering.  The God who speaks is as concerned, as confrontational, as distressed as Job, and also a God who accompanies, who is compassionate, who honors the Truth.

            Suffering is about you and it’s not about you.  There is no answer to suffering, no way to understand it except to go through it fully with others, and with the force that is greater than the self or the others – the force of truth, love, faith, some say the power of God. 

            Before I conclude this whirlwind of a sermon about Job, you may be wondering why I read from Martin Luther King, Jr. earlier.  This week I heard a recording of that talk of his about Vietnam, and it affected me deeply.  His tone was not righteous or prophetic, as in his “I have a dream” speech; his voice was full of despair.  He suffered for the suffering of that war, of our part in that war.  There is no answer to suffering, but sometimes, beyond accompaniment, there is the call to rise up and contend, to question and confront, to honor the Truth while seeking Peace and Justice.  Suffering may be endured as Job did, but also may be upended, as Martin Luther King, Jr. tried to do. 

            Although we accept the place of natural suffering in the universe, we do not accept the injustice of humanity causing needless suffering.   With King, we ask for “a maturity of America” now to admit that we have been wrong in Iraq and we must “turn sharply from our present ways” that bring so much suffering.  Job does not just endure his suffering – he contends, on behalf of others as well as himself, and so should we. 

            Out of the whirlwind of life and suffering, may we always question, while still remembering to be amazed at the wonders of this world, and may we seek the Truth, Justice, Peace, while accompanying others, bringing blessing for all.  Amen.