Job punched back at his friends...
Then Job replied:
I have heard many things like these;
miserable comforters are you all!
Will your long-winded speeches never end?
What ails you that you keep on arguing?
I also could speak like you,
if you were in my place;
I could make fine speeches against you
and shake my head at you.
His friends didn't say anything that Job didn't know already. He felt, c'mon guys, you are no help at all! I have heard everything you have said because I've said them to myself already!
But my mouth would encourage you;
comfort from my lips would bring you relief.
Real wisdom is needed in life on what to say to people in pain. How does one encourage and comfort?
Often times words do seem awfully useless. But yet, sometimes words are all we got to give someone. Can't help but think of James 3 where the power of the tongue (words) for good and evil are directly discussed.
If there is sin there, how do we speak truth that can restore?
If there is suffering there, how do we speak truth that encourages and comforts?
Yet if I speak, my pain is not relieved;
and if I refrain, it does not go away.
Ever been there?
What is there to do when there is nothing that can be done?
Tearful nights, sleepless dawns.
Can't help but think of Robert Kennedy quoting Aeschylus' Agamemnon on the night Martin Luther King was assassinated:
"In our sleep, pain which cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart until, in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God."Job continued to bare his heart to God and his friends ...
Surely, O God, you have worn me out;
you have devastated my entire household.
You have bound me - and it has become a witness;
my gauntness rises up and testifies against me.
God assails me and tears me in his anger
and gnashes his teeth at me;
my opponent fastens on me his piercing eyes.
Men open their mouths to jeer at me;
they strike my cheek in scorn
and unite together against me.
God has turned me over to evil men
and thrown me into the clutches of the wicked.
All was well with me, but he shattered me;
he seized me by the neck and crushed me.
He has made me his target;
his archers surround me.
Without pity, he pierces my kidneys
and spills my gall on the ground.
Again and again he bursts upon me;
he rushes at me like a warrior.
I have sewed sackcloth over my skin
and buried my brow in the dust.
My face is red with weeping,
deep shadows ring my eyes;
yet my hands have been free of violence
and my prayer is pure.
O earth, do not cover my blood;
may my cry never be laid to rest!
This is the power of poetry at work: the visual words, the cadence of phrases, the deep emotions pour forth giving form to thoughts from within.
Yes, it sounds sacrilegious to be this angry at God!
As a "religious" person, I often think of myself as "a sinner in the hands of an angry God." And that picture is true! But here the tables are turned somewhat where God is in the hands of an angry sufferer.
Later on in Job, God responded and Job cowered in the presence of God and rightly so.
The choice was before him: "curse God and die" or engage God honestly and see what happens.
Indeed, Job goes on knowing he needed help ...
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.
Only a few years will pass
before I go on the journey of no return.
Job didn't know about Jesus and what that would mean theologically. However, Job knew the human condition. He knew his condition. If he, if we, are to stand before God, we need help.
Lord, thank you that Jesus is my advocate before you. I can pour out tears to you and you will hear because Jesus has restored my relationship to you, O God. Amen.
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