Job is a script. Imagine a West-End stage. At the front right sits the Lord, high up on his throne beside a courtroom dock. The Satan (the Accuser – or in our terms, the council for the prosecution) presenting his case before the Judge of all. In the centre of the stage will lie Job, broken and ravished, lit only by a single white spot; the place from where he’ll argue his case. And from the shadows on either side will emerge his council, a cowardly defence, urging an early out-of-court settlement to save embarrassment. What will the verdict be? Job refuses to admit defeat; he will have his appeal heard, yet he has no support from witnesses and the Judge remains silent.

And so Job explores what all men and women across time and space have asked: Why is this evil come to us? This is not a treatise on ‘why does God allow suffering?’ It is a full-on rant entitled ‘why me?!’

Much like the works of Shakespeare, this play needs to be imagined – and preferably seen – to be fully appreciated; merely reading it can be hard-going. The key image in this dramatic piece is that of ‘God in the dock’ (as C.S. Lewis once penned). It is the audacity of Job to accuse the Judge that lends this tale its theatrical weight. Imagine the Lord, stepping down from the magistrate bench to the empty dock to give his defence.

What Job expresses is his trenchant belief that he does not deserve this disaster. Bandits, hurricanes, fire from the sky, disease; these are not the just rewards for a man of moral upstanding. And so his friends make their case to him. Think back, they say. Have you done nothing to warrant this punishment? Still Job is steadfast. He denies it. Still they persist. Still Job is determined to have it out with the Lord. Let him defend himself. Let him answer for his crimes.

And finally the Lord does speak, but it is not to answer Job’s questions. The Lord simply poses Job unanswerable questions of his own till Job relents and, humbled, acknowledges he spoke out of turn.

Upon whom is blame for suffering placed? That is the question. The Accuser wants to reveal Job’s motives and show the Judge that he only avoids evil because he does not have to suffer. But in the face of extreme suffering Job proves him wrong and does not curse God. The ‘friends’ are sure that Job is the cause of his own suffering; they are also convinced that suffering is God’s punishment for evil. Both of these are shown to be false and the ‘friends’ are rebuked. Job is convinced that God is to blame for his suffering and, convinced of his own innocence, wants compensation for damages. Finally, when the Lord speaks, we eagerly anticipate his answer, an explanation for it all, and we get nothing; just a bunch of questions.

Frustrated? You should be. What good is all this repetitive argumentation?

But I believe the primary value of the book of Job – and it is of such value – is to give us permission to be frustrated, angry, upset, indignant at suffering; there is no good reason for bad things happening. It is not simply a matter of moral cause and effect. And if we choose to blame God for our ills we’ll simply have to contend with our own ignorance.

The evil of suffering is just so meaningless, so futile. It seems so wrong, so arrogant, so indifferent to our human condition. Grief will overpower us, death will overtake us and we will have to face our dispossession. No matter what we can currently control, it will be wrenched from our grasp and given away to an invisible enemy. What will happen to us then and how will we cope? Arrows of blame will strain on the bow of our desolate heart, but our choice is this: will we shoot, or will we lay down our vengeance and admit our defeat in the arms of our Father.

We can all ‘curse God and die’. Why not? He is the obvious scapegoat. But Job, through the boggy fields of his garbled frustration, shows us that some questions ought to be left open. Confidence in God’s protection is misplaced. Confidence in our understanding of suffering is foolish. But confidence in God’s unfailing love is true devotion.

Job: ‘Though he slay me, yet will I follow’ (13:15). This is the maturity of faith that knows and trusts beyond reason. This is the folly of devotion and the power of God.

Reflection:

In the face of suffering be honest with God. This story shows he is big enough to take it.

Job 19:23-27:
"Oh, that my words were recorded,
that they were written on a scroll,
that they were inscribed with an iron tool on lead,
or engraved in rock for ever!
I know that my Redeemer lives,
and that in the end he will stand upon the earth.
After my skin has been destroyed,
yet in my flesh I will see God;
I myself will see him with my own eyes - I and not another.
How my heart yearns within me!