Introduction
If prose, piety, and pathos be considered together, the book of Job must be without rival in all the annals of literature. The quality of its prose is distinct and startling even in translation. The piety of its protagonist is nowhere surpassed. And the narrative is entirely possessed of the element of pathos, which suddenly appears in the prologue, pulsates throughout the ensuing dialogue, and radiates on the page after our reading is finished. The book is about persevering in faith through the consequences that a series of catastrophes brought about in the life of one man. The entry point is a conversation between Satan and the LORD, which colloquy is foundational to our understanding of what goes on in the spiritual world during our pilgrimage on earth. After the LORD recommends the good character of Job for Satan’s consideration, the devil impugns Job’s character on the basis of the charge that his good conduct is merely a response to having been richly blessed of God. To disprove the charge, God grants to Satan the liberty of putting Job to the test. Subsequent to this meeting, Job is impoverished and humiliated by his adversary the devil, and all his children are slain by his influence. Seeing that the upright character of Job has not tottered, Satan presents himself before the LORD a second time, and is granted the right to put a disease upon Job to test him more perfectly. Next we see Job atop an ash heap, scraping the boils on his skin with a fragment of earthenware. Following Job’s refusal to curse God, which remedy is proposed by his wife, a debate ensues between Job, his three friends, and a latecomer to the exchange. The spirited dialogue continues for the length of about three sermons, and has for its topic the reason why the felicity of Job has lately turned to adversity, by which hardship Job has been driven almost to madness from confusion and grief. The four-sided dialogue is ended by God, who demands answers from Job to a succession of baffling questions about God’s creation and character. Finally, Job confesses his ignorance, unworthiness, and impetuosity; his three friends are censured by the LORD; the LORD approves Job and sets him up as an intercessor for them; and the latter days of Job are made twice as prosperous as the days leading up to his trials.
Suffering is the grimmest part of man’s inheritance from Adam. Between the cradle and the coffin man is at a continual hazard because of accidents and choices, malfunctions and malevolence. Nonetheless, as hazardous as the fallen world is, there are persons who enjoy unrelenting health from first to last, and suffer comparatively little, perhaps passing on to eternity during a placid dream. The tendency, however, is toward the other extreme, where suffering is as common as luxury meats are for the rich. Some people suffer little in this world, while others seem born in it to suffer. But life is brief for all, and each person would be wise to reckon with God while passing through. Man is born in sin, and is condemned, not only to die, but to suffer afterward forever no matter what he suffers first on earth. Without a spiritual quickening before his decease, man is doomed to suffer everlastingly for the initiation of sin and his participation in it. To reckon with God, and to obtain his blessing before death, is the most important task in a man’s life. The persons who are most set upon to prove that they are blessed are the most pious among the penitent. For those who have received a pardon for their sins through faith, suffering is not so much about God’s disapproval, but about proving, by not repining, that reconciliation has taken place. How patiently a man of God suffers, affects his assurance of faith. His hope in being ultimately blessed will hang or hover instead of rest during periods of dejection. A person who trusts God and who continues to trust during adversity will be counted among the blessed. Job is counted among the blessed: “Behold, we count them happy which endure. Ye have heard of the patience of Job, and seen the end intended of the Lord; that the Lord is very pitiful, and of tender mercy” (James 5.11.) ‘Count happy’ means ‘blessed.’ ‘Patience’ means ‘hopeful endurance.’ So, being counted happy depends, here, on ‘hopeful endurance.’ Happiness is certain for saints who endure. Job endured and was made happy.
But there was a time for Job, and there may be times for us, when no amount of blessing seems worth going after. This is particularly the case when relapse reverses progress, when intermittent pain becomes constant, or when physical weakness causes weariness of mind. There is a level of torment that seems like torture from God because the pain turns the mind up to the only power that can stop it. There is a mental space from where abatement seems impossible, from where agony seems eternal, from where infirmity seems everlasting, from where even hell, we imagine, would be an easier fate to bear. In times like these, we might be tempted to plunge into the unknown before bearing another cross. There may even come to us a blasphemous temptation to desire a Being greater than God to appear, to the purpose of putting God through what we are presently enduring. As near as I can tell, Job was not tempted with a thought as black as that. But Satan was permitted to stretch a pavilion of darkness over his faith, from which a translucent sight of God could hardly occur. It takes a lot of trust to persevere. It takes a lot of character to persevere. And to use the language we used at home when I was a boy: “It takes a lot of guts.” Yes, it can take a lot of guts to persevere—and far more guts than any of us have to persevere so patiently that we don’t gripe and grumble.
Job was an observer of the rite of sacrifice. He sacrificed to God, not only because of sin, but even in case of sin: “It may be that my sons have sinned, and cursed God in their hearts. Thus did Job continually” (Job 1.5.) He ‘feared God, and eschewed evil’ (verse 1.) In Romans 5 we read, “… that tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope” (verses 3, 4.) The word ‘experience’ means ‘trustiness,’ and therefore ‘character,’ as one translation has it. Job had character before he patiently endured tribulation. He endured because he was a man of character. He (his character) was tried by prosperity; in his prosperity he offered sacrifices because he had confident expectation (hope.) He worshipped God, then, even as a rich man—even before he went from riches to rags. Job was a ready candidate to become a model for the doctrine of perseverance. He was a man ready for further testing. To Job, perseverance meant more than trusting God through times of prosperity and even trials. Judging from the overall tone of the book and especially from God’s approval of him in both the prelude and the epilogue, there is no presumption in stating that Job maintained a strict religion and a high moral standard in every aspect of, and throughout, his life.
It is one thing to read about the sufferings endured by a hero, quite another to be a hero in the book of Job. During a relapse into sufferings of my own, I began to consider Job’s account more closely. I wanted to somehow weigh his sufferings against my own. I needed to put my sufferings in perspective because my relapse was making me bitter. “He hath set me in dark places, as they that be dead of old. He hath hedged me about, that I cannot get out: he hath made my chain heavy” (Lamentations 3.6, 7.) During the winter of 1998-99, I made the book of Job my chief meditation. So ill and weak was I that this article is the only piece of work that I produced during that whole time, which article would look like a considerable abridgment compared to this final renovation of it. I am “remembering mine affliction and my misery, the wormwood and the gall” (Lamentations 3.19.) I am now convinced that because of the circumstances involved in Job’s trial, the gravity of his sufferings is significantly set apart from our own; and that based on the praise that he received from the LORD for his victory, his perseverance is set above that of all others in the Old Testament.
To examine the account of a man who persevered despite singularly trying circumstances can inspire us to persevere. Job did not realize that his trials were calculated to cultivate his character and to expose that character to view. We, however, do know it. We know from his example that we should use our trials as opportunities to gain ground; that is, to bring glory to God, to edify the Church, to shed some light on the world, and to improve our character in preparation for eternity. That must be our manifold goal. We might not receive a double measure for our perseverance like Job received from God on earth. But we will receive more than a double measure later. To be sure, we will not be ‘counted happy’ if we give up and rebel against God. Each time we persevere through a trial we increase our faith, thereby inclining ourselves more to obey God. To know the grace and peace of God through perseverance increases our overall strength. Experiential religion will show its worth when sufferings come to press us down the next time. Suffering may come down upon us with crushing force. But if we persevere through it, our spirits will run over with happiness. Our perseverance in the LORD, or lack of it, affects us far more that we understand right now. Job’s affliction and the composition of his trial happened first to honor God by putting the devil to confusion, but then to dignify Job and encourage God’s people. Our sufferings have a noble purpose as well. Our conduct during affliction is recorded also. Who knows what is involved in the new heaven and the new earth? Our trials here have something to do with our rank and occupation there. To place our account beside Job’s account will be a humbling and strengthening exercise. God will hearten us through Job; and, having learned to endure hardness, we will be fortified to go on. First, we must learn a little about who Job was.
I will assume that the reader has read the book of Job and that he knows about the dialogue between the devil and God, which dialogue set in motion the unraveling of Job’s idyllic life. These introductory notes may, hopefully and nonetheless, serve as a faint rehearsal of the famed account. Job was blameless but not sinless; he is an historical figure; he is no more fictitious than Noah and Daniel are (Ezekiel 14.14, 20.) Job was a man who lived in the land of Uz around the second millennium B. C. The book of Lamentations situates Edom within the same land; that is, east of Palestine. The name ‘Job’ means ‘hated’ or ‘persecuted’; this definition agrees with the treatment that Job received from the devil as the providence of God produced its negative effects on his life. Even if his name had not ‘hated’ for its definition, the name ‘Job’ should, because of our acquaintance with the narrative, remind us at once of a longsuffering character. If the moralist should be ashamed of ‘never having thumbed Aesop’ (ne Aesopum quidem trivit), the Christian should be shamed for never having read the book of Job.
Job was a man who trusted God and gave him the glory. He did it in the midst of a shocking series of losses, which pained him extremely. When I refer to the sufferings of Job, I don’t mean so much his physical torment, but the mental and spiritual anguish that vexed him after he lost his possessions, his servants, his children, his health, and the respect of his fellows. While there may be more mediums today through which we are tempted to sin than there was in Job’s day, the grave circumstances that complicated and worsened Job’s sufferings tempted him to sin also—circumstances that we do not face. These circumstances markedly intensified Job’s sufferings, accentuating his perseverance. We will consider these four circumstances, following a brief comment on the dimensions of Job’s sufferings.
The boils all over Job’s body caused him gnawing pain. The sores on his body itched and stung intensely. He could not rest. He was wasting away and nearly dead: “My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; my skin is broken, and become loathsome…My bone cleaveth to my skin and to my flesh, and I am escaped with the skin of my teeth…My bones are pierced in the night season: and my sinews take no rest…My skin is black upon me, and my bones are burned with heat” (Job 7.5; 19.20; 30.17, 30.) Job’s physical agony exceeded the pain that most diseases presently cause, especially in countries where doctors and formulas abound—where the sick are catered to in the rush to help alleviate their distress. I do not recall even one verse that says Job was ministered to physically. Nevertheless, as dire as it was for Job bodily, descriptions of his physical discomfort are few. A higher dimension of torment haunts the book: “Therefore I will not refrain my mouth; I will speak in the anguish of my spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul…When I say, my bed shall comfort me, my couch shall ease my complaint; then thou scarest me with dreams, and terrifiest me with visions…And now my soul is poured out upon me; the days of affliction have taken hold upon me…My bowels boiled, and rested not: the days of affliction prevented me. I went mourning without the sun: I stood up, and I cried in the congregation” (Job 7.11, 13, 14; 30.16, 27, 28.) Job’s principal torment was mental and metaphysical. Those among us who have been deathly ill know that during sleep, physical pain is wide awake in nightmares. Sleep that is usually restorative and diversionary becomes exhausting and menacing instead. The night is only a dark review of the direful day. The only break from the nightmare is an equally dismal dawn. The following four circumstances greatly contributed to the vexation of Job’s mind and spirit: the large losses that he incurred, his conscientious character, the limited revelation that he had for his comfort, and the devil’s assaults.
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