adapted from the Bible study “Job” by Eric Ortlund.
It can be easy to think of Job as a
book you turn to if some unexpected tragedy happens, but can otherwise be safely
ignored. Perhaps the most important reason for reading the book, however, is
that Job’s tragedy — an experience of searing pain and loss which did not make
sense within any framework Job had — is all too common.
My experience in
teaching the book in academic and pastoral settings is that almost everyone in
the room knows someone who has undergone a Job-like experience — or they are
suffering one themselves. It seems to be not a question of “if,” but “when” God
will allow some tragedy too painful to be borne quietly, and we, like Job, will
wonder why God would repay imperfect but sincere service and friendship in this
way.
Learn to Interpret
Suffering
A related reason for studying the book is that it widens our
ability to interpret suffering. Biblically, sometimes God allows pain because of
sin (as in Ps. 38) or to grow us spiritually: suffering produces character, and
character endurance (Rom. 5:3). True as these are, neither can explain Job’s
ordeal: not even the Accuser could find some sin which would prompt God’s
punishment (Job 1)!
And Job is presented as a mature believer — although
he had to confess sins (31:33–34), the description of his spiritual integrity in
1:1 uses biblical terms to describe settled maturity. Further, the book never
resolves Job’s suffering by pointing to some spiritual growth on his part.
Rather, Job’s agony ends only in a deeper vision of God (42:5). This is helpful:
the book is teaching us that painful loss can become an avenue for God himself
to reveal himself and draw close in a way he never has before.
A third reason for reading Job is
found in the first chapter: “Does Job fear God for nothing?” (1:9). The Accuser
argues Job doesn’t really love God for God’s sake, but only because of secondary
benefits which accrue in the relationship (the blessings of 1:1-4). Once those
benefits are gone, Job will show how he really feels about God — so the Accuser
claims.
This creates the deep drama of the book’s early chapters: will
Job hang on to his relationship with God when he has every earthly reason to
give up on him? It creates drama for the Christian reader, as well, because all
of us benefit from our relationship with God in ways different from the central
benefits of the gospel: forgiveness of sins and eternal life. If you had to go
to the funeral of one of your children on a Saturday, would your worship the
next Sunday be just as enthusiastic? God is worthy of that level of devotion —
but would we show it?
The author’s purpose in raising this question is
not to shame us, but to help us understand why God allows inexplicable
suffering. In chapters 1–2, Job proves the genuineness of his love for God: Job
has no ulterior motives and treats God as his own reward. The same opportunity
is given to us to tearfully but sincerely affirm that we have no treasure on
earth more precious than God (Ps. 73:25). And a faith of that quality is the
only kind of faith which will save you.
Finally, Job should be studied because
it gives tremendous hope and encouragement in suffering and nourishes endurance
in the midst of it. The Lord’s answer to Job in chapters 38–41, far from blaming
him as his “friends” did, paints a picture which is realistic about what is
still unredeemed about the world, but shows the tremendous joy God takes in his
world without ignoring what is wrong with it.
But the Lord does not leave
Job there: the final speeches about Behemoth and Leviathan speak of a coming
defeat of a great supernatural enemy when God scours all evil from his creation,
and the former things pass away. The poetry of these chapters foster the same
vision and hope in Christians who know without understanding
why.
[written by Eric Ortlund, an associate professor of Old
Testament]
