As we are looking at these courtroom scenes in the Bible, last week, we turned to an Isaiah scripture, where God calls the people into court: Come! I have a case to bring against you. Let us reason it out. This week, we turn to the Book of Job – where Job, out of his suffering, calls God into court. Job has a case to bring against God.
I’ve titled the sermon When God Is in the Dock. That’s an image I borrow from the UK and from C.S. Lewis.[1] If you’ve seen any British mysteries or courtroom dramas, the “dock”is that enclosed space where the accused stands as they answer the charges. This morning, we find God accused – God in the dock.
But let’s begin with first things. (And we’ll be weaving scripture and sermon together a little bit more this morning – back and forth). The Book of Job begins with a story – an ancient story – probably predating most of the stories we have in the Bible.[2] And it goes like this:
One day, God is in God’s celestial court, and Satan wanders in. (Now, Satan means “Adversary.”) The Adversary in God’s court wanders in. God says, “What have you been up to?” And the Adversary says, “I’ve been wandering the Earth, checking up on these humans of yours.”
And God says, “Did you see my servant Job? He’s all that – such a good and faithful man – always praying and praising.” (And this is important – this is a given of this story –as Scripture describes him, Job is “blameless and upright, always honoring God and rejecting evil.” That is never in question.)
Well, the Adversary says, “Well, of course Job is always praising you. Look at all the ways you’ve helped him prosper – lots of land, lots of cattle, lots of children – of course he’s praising all the time. But I bet... I bet.. that if you took away your protection – well, that good ol’ Job wouldn’t be praising you for very long.”
It’s a challenge – a dare – and in this ancient story, God accepts, and withdraws God’s protection from Job. And all hell breaks loose: Armies ride in and kill his livestock; fire sweeps in and scorches his land; a mighty wind crashes down the house where his six children are feasting, and they are all killed. But Job does not waver – Job does not curse God – even when disease comes, and he’s afflicted with sores from head to toe.
The rest of the Book of Job builds on this ancient story. Now Job may not curse God, but he’s not quiet about all this. Out of his suffering, Job groans, and shouts out, and laments: O that I had never been born! Why, O God, did you bring me into this world to suffer like this! Job laments, and demands to be heard. He has a case to bring against God. God, I have done nothing wrong. You know that. And yet, calamity has fallen on my house, and I am bereft. Why? Where is the justice in that? Come – as You say – “let us reason this out”!
And as Job laments, some friends – Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar – come by to... um... help – and they go back and forth with Job. But Job will not be mollified until God hears his case. This goes on for 35 chapters. Our first Scripture is one bit of Job demanding a hearing with God:
Job 23:1-13
Then Job answered [his friends]:
2 “Today my complaint is bitter; God’s hand is heavy despite my groaning.3 Oh, that I knew where I might find God, that I might come even to God’s dwelling!4 I would lay my case before God and fill my mouth with arguments.5 I would learn what God would answer me and understand what God would say to me.6 Would God contend with me in the greatness of their power? No, but God would give heed to me.7 There the upright could reason with God, and I should be acquitted forever by my judge.
8 “If I go forward, God is not there;
or backward, I cannot perceive God;
9 on the left God hides, and I cannot behold God;
I turn to the right, but I cannot see.
10 But God knows the way that I take;
when God has tested me, I shall come out like gold.
11 My foot has held fast to God’s steps;
I have kept God’s way and have not turned aside.
12 I have not departed from the commandment of God’s lips;
I have treasured God’s words in my bosom.
13 But God stands alone, and who can dissuade God?
What God desires, that God does.
So let’s get this clear: Job is NOT patient. You know that saying – “she has the patience of Job” – that’s not a thing. Job is not patient. Far from it. Job rails against his plight. He stops short of cursing God – but Job demands an answer, he demands justice.[3] Chapter after chapter. “I will not be silent. I will speak.” (7:11) I have a case to bring against you, God. You know my ways. You know I’ve done nothing wrong. Tell me what charges you have against me. (10:2) Bring your witnesses. If I had sinned, you would be justified. You are a God of justice. I demand your justice. I have prepared my case. I know I will be vindicated. I know that my Redeemer liveth. Summon me and I will answer – speak to me and I will reply.
Job brings his case. And his friends... come to offer him counsel. And I have to say they are about the worst co-counsel you can imagine. Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar come with their advice:
Job, don’t mock God. Maybe you should just be better, try harder, and then God would relent. C’mon. Think hard. You must have done something bad. Your children – well, they were feasting when the house fell in – have you considered that they may have been at fault? Hardship doesn’t come from nowhere. Sometimes we just have to go through these things. This too shall pass.
Job’s friends – they are those people at the funeral who say all the wrong things. You know what I mean – to someone who is grieving: Maybe this is all part of God’s plan. Surely, God has a reason. God will use this for good. God never gives us more than we can handle.
Job is quite clear that this is more than he can handle. The problem with the advice the friends bring – and those things we say – is that – consciously or not – they are trying to shut down and silence the lament. They discount the space needed to hold the enormity of the experience of suffering. Sitting in the presence of suffering is hard. It is, in ways, more than we can handle. I have heard those things said at funerals ... and I fear that I have at some time or another said them too. There are times when we really don’t know what to say.
Those things that Job’s friends say – they reflect a world view that sees God as the primary cause of all things: If it happens, God must have done it.[4] That may be different from our more modern worldview. But the way they see the world – and God – leads them to think of suffering as judgment for the wicked, a warning to the ethically unstable, and something to be borne by those who are mostly good.[5] There’s got to be a reason.
But Job is clear. No. None of that is sufficient. Job – indeed the Book of Job – rejects those pat answers. Job says: None of that matches up with what I am experiencing here. None of that matches up with the God I know – the God of justice. I demand an answer. I have a case to bring against God.
But. Job has a case to bring – and he can’t even find God to bring it. Insult to injury. Oh, that I knew where to find God – I would bring my case to God’s doorstep. I would lay my case before God, and God would answer. I would learn, and I might understand. But where the heck is God? I look forward. I look backward. I look to the left, and to the right. I can’t see God anywhere. If only God would hear my case.
And in response – only silence.
SILENCE
Well, there’s silence from God. But Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar prattle on – and Job continues to shout. This goes on for 35 chapters.
And then, in chapter 38, Job takes a breath, and God speaks.
Our second Scripture – Job 38: 1-18:
Then God answered Job out of the whirlwind:
2 “Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?
3 Gird up your loins like a man;
I will question you, and you shall declare to me.
4 “Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?
Tell me, if you have understanding.
5 Who determined its measurements—surely you know!
Or who stretched the line upon it?
6 On what were its bases sunk,
or who laid its cornerstone
7 when the morning stars sang together
and all the heavenly beings[a] shouted for joy?
8 “Or who shut in the sea with doors
when it burst out from the womb,
9 when I made the clouds its garment
and thick darkness its swaddling band,
10 and prescribed bounds for it,
and set bars and doors,
11 and said, ‘Thus far shall you come and no farther,
and here shall your proud waves be stopped’?
12 “Have you commanded the morning since your days began
and caused the dawn to know its place,
13 so that it might take hold of the skirts of the earth,
and the wicked be shaken out of it?
14 It is changed like clay under the seal,
and it is dyed like a garment.
15 Light is withheld from the wicked,
and their uplifted arm is broken.
16 “Have you entered into the springs of the sea
or walked in the recesses of the deep?
17 Have the gates of death been revealed to you,
or have you seen the gates of deep darkness?
18 Have you comprehended the expanse of the earth?
Declare, if you know all this.
Wow. That’s quite a response. Where were you when I shaped the earth – measured out its foundations – spread out the sky and the clouds – kept the waters and the darkness at bay – nourished the land with streams. Where were you? Did you set the wild donkey free? The wild ox? Did you make the ostrich to run instead of fly? Did you give the horse its strength?
So, we have the elements of a courtroom scene, here. There’s (1) Job’s complaint – Job brings his case. (2) There’s God’s response. (3) They both testify.
But (4) what’s the verdict? In the depths of Job’s suffering, in the midst of this whirlwind – (5) what is going to be the operative reality of his life. Well, maybe there’s a hint of the verdict in what Job says next:
I know that you can do all things,
and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted.
Surely I spoke of things I did not understand –
things too wonderful for me to knowd.
You said, Listen, and I will speak.
I have now heard you, and now I see.
Therefore, I recant and relent upon dust and ashes.
And then, we go back to that ancient story. God makes Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar ask Job for forgiveness. And then, as time goes on, Job and his wife have children. And the story says that God blesses the latter part of Job’s life more than the first.
So that’s it? Job recants his case – I thought he had some pretty good points. And then he just gets a new life. I don’t know about you, but I don’t find that ending all that satisfying. I mean, Where’s the answer?
Well, let’s notice a couple things. Notice Job gets his day in court. Out of the depths of his suffering, that is the one thing Job has insisted on. Where is God? I have a case to bring. I will speak and God will answer. And that happens. Job is seen and heard. God speaks out of the whirlwind. And Job hears and sees. They certainly bring real life into focus.
Notice that God never answers the specific charges. Job brings very specific complaints. And God responds with what is essentially a creation story.[6] The Bible has plenty – two in Genesis – Let there be light and there was light. And then God shapes humanity out of the earth. In Proverbs, there’s Woman Wisdom at the beginning with God creating all things. And then there’s the Gospel: In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. And here, in the Book of Job: “Where were you when I set the foundations of the world – set the stars and sun in the sky – loosed all manner of life all over the Earth – and keep it spinning to this day.” God creating the world and bringing order to it – more than not – holding back the chaos – mostly.
Notice that, standing in that world, facing the whirlwind, Job lets go. Maybe not of his deep pain and loss – maybe that will always be there. All that has now been seen and heard. I don’t quite understand this, but somehow Job let’s go of his need to argue it out – his need wrestle an answer out of God. “I recant and relent.”[7]
We come to the Book of Job – with Job’s big questions – and ours – and we don’t find a neat and tidy answer. We come to Job – and what we find is a groan and a shout – as ancient as this story, and as fresh and alive as the dawn of this very day.
I know a woman whose husband died suddenly and too young. In those first days after he died, when the house was full of friends and family bringing casseroles and comfort, she said to me, “All I want to do is to go back into my bedroom, and crawl under the covers, and never come out. But. But I’m determined to get up each morning and live. Right now, I don’t know how I will ever do anything more than that. But that’s the one thing I am determined to do. Get up each morning. And live.”
Jessica has introduced me to a play entitled J.B. – it’s by Archibald MacLeish, and it won the Pulitzer in 1959.[8] It’s a modern day telling of the story of Job – J.B. is a prosperous business man who loses everything, and then contends with God. The play is intense.
I was most struck though by the playwright’s introduction. Archibald MacLeish acknowledges that at the end of the story Job doesn’t get his answer to the question, “Why?” He’s not brought to knowledge, but to seeing. And what Job accepts – MacLeish says – is to live his life again in spite of what he knows and what he may never understand. He chooses to “love life in spite of life.” And then MacLeish says this – it may be a bit beyond this morning’s Scripture, but it is lovely still: “It is for this reason that love becomes the ultimate human question... Love in reason’s terms answers nothing... What love does is to affirm. It affirms the worth of life in spite of life... It answers life with life.”
Job stands with God in the complexity of what it is to be human. And, in the face of those things we may never understand – Job chooses to live.
I am not unmindful that I am telling the story of Job as I stand in front of this communion table. In just moments we will remember: The God who spun this world into being is the God who comes to us in Jesus Christ and enters into the whole of human experience – even into the experience of suffering and unimaginable loss. We will remember the one who laments on the cross – “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” We will remember the night before all that, when Jesus – knowing what lies ahead – says:
“Come! All of you. Every one.
Let us love one another,
and together – in all this –
we will find our way to life.”
© 2024 Scott Clark
[1] C.S. Lewis has an essay entitled “God in the Dock,” which can be found in a collection of his essays by the same name. See C.S. Lewis, God in the Dock (New York: Harper One, 1974, 1994 ed. (WalterHooper, ed.)). Interestingly, Lewis contends: “The ancient [human] approached God (or even the gods) as the accused person approaches [their] judge. For the modern [human] the roles are reversed. [The human] is the judge and God is in the dock.” Id. p.244. I agree that the ancients may have more often viewed themselves as being accused before God. However, I think that ancients and moderns alike have an impulse bring Job-like charges against God – see the persistence of lament as a primal human expression down through the generations/millenia.
[2] For general background on the Book of Job and these scripture passages, see NIB. Carol A. Newsom, “The Book of Job,” New Interpreters’ Bible Commentary, vol. iv (Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press, 1996); Madipoane Masenya (ngwan’a Mphahlele) and Rodney S. Sadler, Jr., “Job” in The Africana Bible: Reading Israel’s Scriptures from Africa and the African Diaspora (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2010), pp. 237-43.
[3] See Newsom, pp. 331-33.
[4] See Newsom, pp. 331-34.
[5] Id. p.334.
[6] See Newsom, p. 614
[7] See a fascinating discussion of the broad range of interpretations that can be made from the (relatively ambiguous) Hebrew here, in Newsom at 628-32.
[8] See Archibald MacLeish, J.B. (1958) (acting edition, with introduction).
Photo credit: Luke Stackpoole, used with permission via Unsplash
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