Authors: Bart D. Ehrman
Would that it were so. Unfortunately, Job’s earlier claims turn out to be the ones that are true. God does not listen to the pleas of the innocent; he overpowers them by his almighty presence. Still, at the end of the dialogues Job throws down the gauntlet and demands a divine audience:
O that I had one to hear me!
(Here is my signature! Let the
Almighty answer me!)
O that I had the indictment
written by my adversary!
Surely I would carry it on my
shoulder;
I would bind it on me like a
crown;
I would give him an account of all
my steps;
like a prince I would approach
him. (Job 31:35–37)
This final demand receives a divine response. But not before another “friend” appears to state still more forcefully the “prophetic” case against Job, that he is being punished for his sins. Elihu son of Barachel appears out of nowhere and enters the discussion, delivering
a speech that separates Job’s demand for a divine audience and the appearance of God himself on the scene. In this speech Elihu rebukes Job in harsh terms and exalts God’s goodness in punishing the wicked and rewarding the righteous.
Job has no time—or need—to reply to this restatement of his friends’ views. Before he can respond, God himself appears, in power, to overwhelm Job with his presence and cow him into submission in the dirt. God does not appear with a still, small voice from heaven, or in human guise, or in a comforting dream. He sends a violent and terrifying whirlwind and speaks to Job out of it, roaring out his reprimand:
Who is this that darkens counsel
by words without
knowledge?
Gird up your loins like a man,
I will question you, and you
shall declare to me.
Where were you when I laid the
foundation of the earth?
Tell me, if you have
understanding.
Who determined its
measurements—surely you
know!
Or who stretched the line upon
it?
On what were its bases sunk,
or who laid its cornerstone
when the morning stars sang
together
and all the heavenly beings
shouted for joy? (Job 38:2–7)
In his anger, God reproves Job for thinking that he, a mere mortal, can contend with the one who created the world and all that is in it. God is the Almighty, unanswerable to those who live their petty existence here on earth. He asks Job a series of impossible questions, meant to grind Job into submission before his divine omnipotence:
Have you commanded the
morning since your days
began,
and caused the dawn to know
its place?…
Have you entered into the
springs of the sea,
or walked in the recesses of the
deep?
Have the gates of death been
revealed to you,
or have you seen the gates of
deep darkness?
Have you comprehended the
expanse of the earth?
Declare, if you know all this….
Have you entered the storehouses
of the snow,
or have you seen the
storehouses of the hail?…
Do you know the ordinances of
the heavens?
Can you establish their rule on
the earth?
Can you lift up your voice to the
clouds,
so that a flood of waters may
cover you?
Can you send forth lightnings, so
that they may go,
and say to you, “Here we are”?…
Is it by your wisdom that the
hawk soars,
and spreads its wings toward
the south?
Is it at your command that the
eagle mounts up
and makes its nest on high? (Job 38:12, 16–18, 22, 33–35; 39:26–27)
This demonstration of raw divine power—it is God, not Job, who is the creator and ruler of this world—leads to the natural conclusion. If God is almighty and Job is a pathetically weak mortal, who is
he
to contend with God (40:1–2)? Job submits in humility (40:3–4). But God is not finished with him. He speaks a second time from the whirlwind.
Then the L
ORD
answered Job out
of the whirlwind:
Gird up your loins like a man;
I will question you, and you
declare to me.
Will you even put me in the
wrong?
Will you condemn me that you
may be justified?
Have you an arm like God,
and can you thunder with a
voice like his? (Job 40:6–9)
No, obviously not. Job had predicted that if God ever were to appear to him, he would be completely overpowered by his divine majesty and driven to submit before him, whether innocent or not. And that’s exactly what happens. When God’s thundering voice is finally silent, Job repents and confesses:
I know that you can do all
things,
and that no purpose of yours
can be thwarted….
I had heard of you by the hearing
of the ear,
but now my eye sees you;
therefore I despise myself,
and repent in dust and ashes. (Job 42:2, 5–6)
Readers have read this climax to the poetic dialogues in a variety of ways.
3
Some think that Job got everything he had wished for—a divine audience—and was satisfied with that. Others think that Job came to realize his inherent guilt before the Almighty. Others think that once Job has recognized the enormity of God’s creation, he can put his individual suffering in a cosmic perspective. Still others think that the point is that God has far too much on his hands—the governance of the entire universe, after all—to be all that concerned about Job’s quibbles regarding innocent suffering.
I don’t think any of these answers is right. Job did want a divine audience, but that was so he could declare his innocence before God—and he is never given a chance to get a word in. Nor is there any sense in which Job comes to realize that, in fact, he was guilty before God after all: when he “repents” he does not repent of any wrongdoing (he was, after all, completely innocent!); he repents of having thought that he could make his case before the Almighty. Nor does it seem fair to relativize a person’s suffering because the world is, after all, a very big and amazing place. And it can’t be true
that the Lord God has too many other things to worry about other than Job’s miserable little life: the entire point of Job’s speeches is not that God is
absent
from his life but that he is far too
present,
punishing Job in ways that make no sense because he has done nothing wrong.
It cannot be overlooked that in the divine response from the whirlwind to Job’s passionate and desperate plea for understanding why he, an innocent man, is suffering so horribly, no answer is given. God does not explain why Job suffers. He simply asserts that he is the Almighty and, as such, cannot be questioned. He does not explain that Job had committed sins of which he was simply unaware. He does not say that the suffering did not come from him but from other humans (or demonic beings) who were behaving badly toward Job. He does not indicate that it has all been a test to see if Job would remain faithful. His only answer is that he is the Almighty who cannot be questioned by mere mortals, and that the very quest for an answer, the very search for truth, the very impulse to understand is an affront to his Powerful Being. God is not to be questioned and reasons are not to be sought. Anyone who dares to challenge God will be withered on the spot, squashed into the dirt by his overpowering presence. The answer to suffering is that there is no answer, and we should not look for one. The problem with Job is that he expects God to deal rationally with him, to give him a reasonable explanation of the state of affairs; but God refuses to do so. He is, after all, God. Why should he have to answer to anybody? Who are
we,
mere mortals, to question GOD?