Jehovah and Job
The sermons and articles of the past few weeks may leave you feeling trounced and beaten to a pulp. When we preach scriptures dealing with the natural moral condition of mankind, we will not go away from them thinking too highly of ourselves. Neither should we because the scriptures force us to see ourselves as God sees us.
In the sermon on the Memorial Day weekend, I mentioned I had been reading from the last chapters of Job. At the close of chapter 37, Job’s “comforters” had exhausted their speeches without offering Job any relief from his misery. In God’s place, they announced their wisdom and judged and condemned Job as a vile wicked sinner. Surely, the chastisement of God was on him proved by the terrible calamities he experienced that practically ruined his life.
After these condemning speeches, God’s voice came out of the whirlwind and His scathing words seemed to confirm the assessment of Job’s comforters. This continued from chapter 38 through chapter 41. What could Job do but say, “Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes.” (Job 42:6). As Job’s comforters heard both God and him speak, they must have felt justified with an “I told you so” attitude. As if hearing God speak audibly in the wind was unexpected, hearing next what He said to these three wisemen of the East was the least expected of the entire ordeal. God said, “I am angry with you because you have not spoken what is right as did my servant Job.” Then God commanded each of them to offer a burnt sacrifice and ask Job to pray for them. After God burned their best wisdom to ashes like the sacrifices they would make; after obliterating their self-congratulations; this command to ask the one they eviscerated to pray for them was the ultimate humiliation. However, they knew the Lord and knew they must obey. Did they grumble at the requirement and act as if God was unjust to treat them this way? No, there is no recording of more speeches.
In my sermon on the holiday weekend, this was in my mind as we discussed the Syrophonecian woman in Mark 7. She gladly accepted Jesus telling her she was a dog. I quoted Matthew Henry’s commentary on the reaction of Job’s three friends after God exonerated him and told them make their sacrifices. Henry wrote: “Peace with God is to be had only in his own way and upon his own terms, and they will never seem hard to those who know how to value the privilege, but they will be glad of it upon any terms, though ever so humbling.” Henry commented on a much different event than in Mark 7, and yet the underlying issue was the same.
My thoughts were that we will never come to the type of faith God requires, until we accept how truly wicked we are. The suffering Christ endured on the cross reached its infinite intensity in view of the measurement of our crimes against God. It is beyond our ability to understand how far we are beneath the holiness of God. When we admit our sinfulness, it is not as if there is a light dusting of grime on our souls. A sense of the seriousness of our plight without Christ leads us to Henry’s conclusion. Anything God asks of us no matter how far we think it is beneath us is a valued privilege to do. We rejoice in God’s demand of humiliation—an accepted humiliation when the word of God describes exactly what we are.
I do not preach to beat up on anyone. I preach the doctrines of the faith of Jesus Christ to exalt Him and never to let us think we deserve anything at God’s hand but judgment. If God grants the ability to miss the judgment of hell, are the terms too steep?
Pastor V. Mark Smith