Job
A good man loses everything for no reason he's ever told. The friends who make it worse, God's answer from the storm, and an ending that doesn't tidy up.
The story
Job is the most blameless man on earth, and the text says so before anything else. Rich, ten kids, a habit of offering sacrifices for his children just in case they'd sinned in their hearts. Then the scene cuts to heaven. God points Job out to Satan, the accuser, and the accuser asks the question the whole book hangs on: does Job fear God for nothing? Take it all away and he'll curse you to your face. God says: everything he has is in your hand. Just not him.
One day, four messengers, each arriving while the last is still talking. Raiders took the oxen and donkeys and killed the servants. Fire from the sky burned the sheep. Chaldeans took the camels. A wind hit the house where all ten of his children were eating, and they're dead. Job tears his robe, shaves his head, and falls down. And worships. Naked I came, naked I'll go. The LORD gave and the LORD has taken. Blessed be his name. The text says he didn't sin or blame God.
Round two. The accuser says skin for skin; touch his body and he'll break. God allows it, short of killing him. Job is covered in sores from scalp to sole and sits in the ashes scraping himself with a piece of broken pot. His wife says: still holding on to your integrity? Curse God and die. Job says she's talking like a fool. Shall we take good from God and not trouble? He doesn't sin with his lips. The text is careful to say lips.
Three friends come. When they see him from a distance they don't recognize him. They weep, tear their clothes, and sit on the ground with him for seven days and nights without a word, because they can see how bad it is. That silence is the best thing they do in the whole book.
Then Job opens his mouth and curses the day he was born, and for chapter after chapter they argue. The friends' position, dressed up in a lot of poetry, is that God is just, so Job must have done something. Job's position is that he didn't, that he'd say so to God's face, and that he wants a hearing. He never curses God. He does accuse him. He says God is treating him like an enemy, and he demands an answer.
He gets one, from a whirlwind, and it's not what anyone expected. God doesn't explain. He asks questions. Where were you when I laid the earth's foundations? Who shut the sea behind doors? Have you seen where the snow is stored? Can you tie up the Pleiades? Do you feed the lions? Did you make the horse brave? Chapter after chapter of it, then Behemoth, then Leviathan, the sea monster nobody can hook. Job says: I'm small. I'll put my hand over my mouth. God goes again. Job says, finally: I'd heard about you; now I've seen you. So I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes.
Then the turn. God says to the friends: I'm angry with you, because you haven't spoken rightly about me, as my servant Job has. The ones who defended God are in trouble. The one who argued with him is called his servant. Job prays for them and God accepts him. His fortune is doubled. He has ten more children, and the daughters are named and given an inheritance alongside their brothers, which was not normal. He lives 140 more years and dies old and full of days.
The verse to keep
I'd only ever heard about you from other people. Now I've seen you for myself.
Job never gets his ‘why’. What he gets instead is this. Whether it's enough is the question the book leaves with you.
What it actually means
The friends' theology is the one most people hold without noticing: good things happen to good people, so if something terrible happened, look for the cause. Job's book exists to say that this is false, and that saying it to a suffering person is cruel. God's verdict at the end is aimed at the people who defended him with tidy answers. If you're the one in the ashes, this is the book that says you're allowed to shout.
God's answer doesn't answer. Job never finds out about the conversation in chapter one; he's never told why. What he gets is God, in person, taking him seriously enough to speak, and a tour of a creation far bigger and stranger than his own case. Somehow that's enough for him. Not an explanation. A presence. Whether that would be enough for you is a fair question, and the book doesn't pressure you on it.
The ending is the part people rush. Job gets double the livestock and ten new children, and it can sound like the deal the accuser was accusing him of. But children aren't replaceable. The first ten are still dead, and there's no line where Job stops grieving them. What the ending gives is a man who has been through the worst and is still able to receive good again, and to hand out inheritances to his daughters like a man who's stopped keeping score. That's not a bow on the story. It's a life carrying on with the losses inside it.
Worth arguing about
- 1Job's friends sat in silence for seven days and it was the best thing they did. What does that say about how to be with someone who's grieving?
- 2God said Job spoke rightly about him, and Job spent thirty chapters accusing God. What does ‘speaking rightly’ mean, then?
- 3God never tells Job why. Would an explanation have helped? Would it help you?
- 4The new children don't replace the old ones. What does the ending actually give Job?
Read it yourself: Job 1–2
World English Bible. 35 verses.
Whole book: Job