A mother is running errands, accompanied by her two small children. All morning the children have been pestering her: "Can we go to the new toy store? Let's get some ice cream. We want to go home now." Pretty soon their pestering turns to complaining, then to angry questions. "Why can't we go where we want to go? Why do we have to go in that store? Why can't we eat lunch now? Why do we always have to do what you want to do and never what we want to do?" Finally the mother stops, stoops to face her children chin-to-chin and says, "Because I'm the Mommy, that's why." That scenario reminds me of the way God responds to Job in this morning's lesson. Job has progressed from acceptance of his suffering to complaining to questioning to bitter accusations. Now at the climax of the book God finally speaks to Job and his answer is, "Because I'm God, that's why."
It's surprising that God appears to Job at all here. God hasn't spoken since he gave Satan permission to test Job's faith in the opening scene of the book, and he has never spoken directly to Job. Job has been frustrated by God's silence. He has hoped, even demanded, to argue his case before God; he has pressed God for answers, but he has gotten no response. Perhaps God has simply been exercising patience with Job, letting Job blow off steam. But, on the other hand, maybe God has disappeared from the story. In last week's lesson, Job was stymied by his inability to figure out where God was when he wanted to talk to God. Now, suddenly, with no preparation or introduction, the voice of God roars out of the whirlwind.
Why does God speak now, when he has been silent so long? Not because Job talked him into it; not because he figured he owed it to Job. God hasn't placed himself under obligation to Job at any point in the story. No, God speaks now only because he chooses this moment to speak. In fact, it's only by God's choice that he speaks at all in the Bible. God reveals to human beings only what he wishes us to know, and only when he chooses to reveal it. Many times we pray and plead, and then wait endlessly for an answer from God. But God won't be coerced into acting.
Not only does God not appear to Job on demand; when he does speak he doesn't answer any of Job's questions. Job wanted God to appear and explain his actions, defend the justice of what he has allowed to happen to Job. Job wanted God to answer Job's accusations. Instead, God appears and begins questioning Job.
"Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?" God demands. "Who are you, to tell me I don't know how to run the world?" Then God gets sarcastic. "Let's check out your qualifications to criticize me. I assume, since you think you know better than I do how to create a universe, that you have some relevant experience. What was your role in creation? Do you recall the blueprints, the measurements? Refresh my memory - were you the design engineer or the construction supervisor?"
Of course, Job can only stand silently. He's been had, and he knows it. It's immediately plain that he has neither any expertise nor authority that allows him to challenge God. God has used another technique that parents often use to squelch complaints from their children. "You don't like what I made for supper? Fine, I'm sure tomorrow night you can cook something you'd like better. You didn't enjoy our vacation? Sorry, next time we'll let you make the plans and pay the bills."
God doesn't think he owes Job an explanation. So instead of answering Job's questions, he simply asserts his authority. "Can you send forth lightnings, that they may go and say to you, 'Here we are!'?" he asks Job. "Can you make rain, or food for lions?" God's question implies its own answer, of course: "No, you can't; but I can, because I'm God."
Ironically, early in the book Job had told his friends that he couldn't really argue with God, because it would be no contest. In chapter nine - 29 chapters ago - Job said, "If I summoned him and he answered me, I do not believe that he would listen to my voice.... If it is a contest of strength, he is the strong one." (9:16, 19) Now God proves that Job was right. He shows up and crushes Job's arguments with his power and authority.
So Job gets what he wanted, in a way. God finally appears and speaks to him, just as Job has been demanding. But the result is not a victory for Job. It's not even a fair fight. Instead, God comes and teaches Job a harsh lesson. Job's opinions have outpaced his understanding; he has set himself up as judge of things he has no competence to judge. Job has been playing God, and when God shows up Job's game is ended.
In ancient drama, when a writer wrote such a complicated plot he couldn't come up with a way to resolve it, he might have a divine being lowered from the stage rafters by a crane to work a miracle and make everything right again. That technique was called deus ex machina, "God from a machine." We often think of God that way, as the one who is hanging in the rafters, waiting to swoop down and solve our problems for us when we really need him. Job may have thought the same thing. God was bound to come when Job called and straighten out Job's affairs; that was his job.
But God didn't come when Job called. God waited, and Job waited, and God finally came when he decided it was time to come. And when God came, it wasn't to answer Job's questions but to put Job in his place. God came and reminded Job that he - God - was the one who designed and created the earth, and no one is competent or authorized to judge him. We, like Job, must remember that although God has promised to answer our prayers and to act on our behalf, it is only because he chooses to. God doesn't take orders from us or defend himself to us.
Well, all of that doesn't present a very flattering picture of God, does it? God keeps people waiting, and then when he does reply to their cries it's to pull rank or to make fun of their complaints. So is God a tyrant? Perhaps, but this passage reminds us that if God is the absolute ruler of the world it's because he is its designer, creator, provider and sustainer. Returning to the analogy of parents, God is like a parent who tells his children, "As long as I provide the roof over your head, the clothes on your back and the food on your plate, I will also make the rules, and decide what's fair."
Besides, if God is a dictator, he's a benevolent one. After all, he may be slow to respond, and his response may not be what we want to hear, but he does respond. He answers Job, which shows that he has been listening and watching all along. From the beginning, Job's ordeal has been a test of his faith, and he has passed; he has never given up on God. Now, at the end, God vindicates Job's faith. He doesn't restore Job's fortune and reputation, but he does more than that. He comes in person to talk to Job, to show Job his glory. It's as if a peasant wrote to a king for a legal judgment, and instead of granting the judgment the king came to visit the peasant's house. What more could he ask for?
God proved his grace in this episode. He didn't have to listen to Job, or speak to him, but he did, because he chose to. Later, in a much more dramatic event, God initiated another unexpected contact with human beings when he became flesh in Jesus. He didn't have to come into the world to save us, but he did, because he chose to. He does the same for you and me this morning in the reading of his word, and in his presence in bread and wine. God doesn't have to hear our prayers, or speak to us, or come to us, but he does, because he cares.
We can also take comfort in what God reveals to Job about his control of the universe. In our text today and for the next two chapters, God reminds Job of all the things he has created, all the things that operate according to his design. The sun and the stars, the clouds and the rain, the animals, light and dark, the birth of baby mountain goats, the pride of a stallion - "I caused all that!" says God. He recites this long list mainly to show Job that he shouldn't try to tell God how to run his universe, but at the same time he points out to Job the pattern, the harmony, the orderliness, the appropriateness of things.
Does the sun do what it's supposed to? Does the rain do what it's supposed to? Does the snow fall when it's supposed to? Do lions eat what they're supposed to? Does it get dark when it's supposed to, and light when it's supposed to? The beauty, precision and harmony of creation should prove to us that God is the best creator of universes in the whole universe, so we can trust God to take care of us the way he's supposed to.
"Because I'm the Mommy, that's why" means, on the one hand, "I'm in charge here; I don't owe you any explanations; and you wouldn't understand if I did explain everything I do." But it also means, "I am your Mommy, I'm here with you, I know what I'm doing and you can trust me to look out for your best interests." God tells Job, "Because I'm God, that's why." He shows us the tremendous gap between our rights and his authority, between our speculation and his knowledge, between our dependence and his power. But at the same time he lays a foundation for trust: He is listening to us, he is present with us, and he is ruling the world with our interests at heart.