"Why is Job So Angry?"

October 12, 1997
Text: Job 23:1-9,16-17
Rev. James R. Gorman [Home] - [Sermon List]

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Why is Job so angry?

Partly, of course, it is because his afflictions are undeserved. Job, you will remember, was an upright man who was faithful to his God from the very moment of his birth. And then he is tested by the heavenly beings, the dark angels.

One day, a neighboring tribe killed Job's servants and cattle. Only one escaped to bring the horrible news to Job. A storm came and blew his son's house down, killing all within. Only one escaped to bring the horrible news to Job. Another tribe killed more servants; only one escaped to tell Job.

Still, in spite of everything, Job remained steadfast in his faith in God. "I was born with nothing, and I will die with nothing. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away, blessed be the name of the Lord." "God never burdens us with more than we can handle."

This is where we get the notion of the patience of Job. Despite all that happens, Job remains patient and faithful. The problem is that this is just Chapter Two! This goes on for 39 more chapters and today's reading from Chapter 23 does not depict a patient man at all. The afflictions are unrelenting. Job is at the end of his rope. He is angry and he is bitter.

Partly he is angry, of course, because of his state of being. But partly it is because of the bad advice he is getting from his friends. Bildad from the land of Shuah and Zophar from the land of Naamah and Eliphaz from the city of Teman. The three of them conspire to explain away Job's difficulties as being the result of something he did or some thing someone in his family did, and that he should just be quiet and take his due. Bildad, at one point, says after a long complaint by his friend Job, "Are you finally through with your windy speech? God never twists justice; he never fails to do what is right. Your children must have sinned against God, and so he punished them as they deserved." (8:1-3 CEV)

Eliphaz the Tamenite, just before today's reading, goes on at some length about Job's indiscretions,

"It is obvious that you have sinned before God.

You have cheated your brothers,

You stripped the naked of their clothing.

You gave no water to the weary to drink

You have withheld bread from the hungry,

You have sent the widows away empty.

THEREFORE snares are round about you,

And terror overwhelms you."

"But all you have to do," says Eliphaz, "is agree with God and be at peace. Return to the Almighty and humble yourself."

It is impossible for Eliphaz or any of the others to believe that a good and just God lets bad things happen to good people. Without explanation. Without reason.

Be humble Job. Return to God and be humble.

But Job is anything but humble. He's angry and he is bitter, and he is just now entertaining the most blasphemous of thoughts and ideas.

Instead of replying to his "friend" Eliphaz, saying, "I didn't do any of these things you just listed," Job is so angry that he refuses to engage that argument at all; refuses to dignify that argument with a response.

Instead he goes directly to the source of the problem. The fundamental question before him is the question about the whereabouts and the nature of the God to whom Job had been faithful all his days.

Earlier in this argument between Job and his friends, Job thought of God as a hunter, as a kidnapper or a murderer. Amazing. That's blasphemous enough, but now Job is beyond being angry at an unjust God. He is now convinced that God just doesn't care anymore. That this God is unconcerned about the plight of one of his faithful ones.

And it is at this point in his debate with his friends that Job no longer speaks about God but rather, muses about God and begins to turn his attention directly to God. This is an impatient man, dealing with afflictions of when bad things happen to good people.

Scholars have noted that in earlier stages of these arguments, Job continues to pray, but at this point his physical and spiritual isolation is such that he's given up on traditional forms of prayer. He's so angry that he can't bring himself to pray to a God that is either unjust or absent. He moves now into an open rebellion before God. His prayers now take the form of yelling.

Far from humbling himself as Eliphaz suggested, Job is increasingly arrogant before God. "Job is in open revolt, not just against the shallow advice of his friends, but also against his own attempts to keep silent" (Terrien, IB, Vol 3, p. 1080)

Remember the admonition to "Be still and know that I am God"? Well, Job will have none of that.

"Oh that I knew where I might find [God]" Job cries.

"I would lay my case before him and fill my mouth with arguments.

And I would learn what he would answer me

and understand what he would say to me."

Now that's not a humble man!. This is a man in full revolt against God. Angry and bitter. "I'll know what God knows and I'll be able to trump his argument as on an episode of Law and Order!"

The phrase, "The patience of Job" does not quite fit this part of the scenario. Job is more than ever convinced of his righteousness and the essential unfairness of his suffering (made worse by the insensitive remarks of his friends).

"Even an unjust God is at least not stupid," Job says out loud. Even an unjust God could see that what has happened to me is essentially wrong and unfair and makes no sense.

And finally Job, in his growing despair, entertains the awful possibility that God is just not there, or is unconcerned. Just as Jesus did on the cross by quoting the 22nd Psalm, "My God, My God, why have you abandoned me?" Why have you left me all alone?

God is not unjust.

God is not angry.

God is absent.

God has abandoned me.

Thus the final powerful verse from this section of Job's encounter with his friends:

"The Almighty has terrified me; if only I could vanish in darkness, and thick darkness would cover my face!"

Job, in winning the argument, has lost his faith. He has proved that God is not unjust,

nor unmerciful,

just unconcerned and gone.

And this is not a God in whom anyone would like to have faith or take any pride in giving glory.

But the darkness of Job is real. It is a darkness that many of us live in from time to time, and in our darkness and loneliness, our friends are not always helpful. No more helpful than Eliphaz and Bildad and Zophar.

I was pondering these last verses yesterday when I read in the paper a powerful column by a woman who is an editorial writer for the Wichita Kansas Eagle. She begins her column:

"I know what it's like to be mentally ill with clinical depression. Not just feeling down, but lost in dark despair. Sleeping too much or not enough. Eating too much or not enough. Drinking to cover the pain. Not caring about anything--appearance, social activities, church, family celebrations, hobbies. No energy. Crying over small (and generally imagined) slights. Mad at myself. Mad at the world. Can't concentrate. Thoughts of suicide. Aware that my behavior is making others uncomfortable. But unable to heal myself without help."

This is the condition of Job. Lost in a darkness that is beyond comprehension and undeserved. Getting bad advice from friends.

Well, the story goes on and Job finally moves to a new faith in a more inscrutable and mysterious God. There is no adequate answer to the question about why bad things happen, but God is with us. Even though God's presence cannot be proved.

God is silent through the entire story and finally God speaks at the end. He tells Job, I was with you through it all; I know you didn't see me from moment to moment, but I was there.

This wonderful idea is captured in that popular poem, "Footprints in the Sand." It lifts up something powerful about our relationship with God. We all know the story: A woman looks back on her life, and in the darkest, most despairing moments in her life, she sees only one set of footprints, where before there had been two. And she asks God, "Where were you?" That's Job's question--"Where were you?" And the answer that we all know is: "That was the moment in which I carried you."

That's the discovery at the end of the book of Job. There is no adequate answer to the question about why bad things happen, but God is with us. Even though God's presence cannot be proved or sensed.

Through it all, Job never says God does not exist. What Job was about was probably the most faithful of all things: to rail against God, to be angry with God, and to engage God intimately. This is the most powerful and ultimate of engagements between God and humanity.

The song "Precious Lord, Take My Hand" is powerful in the same way. It's a song about someone in the depths of their darkness, reaching out and asking, pleading with God:

Take my hand.

I have no resources of my own,

I am lost

I am alone

I am afraid

I am terrified.

Just take my hand and I will belong to you forever

and that will be enough.