Job 38:1--41:34 · The Lord Speaks
With Friends Like These ...
Job 38:1-7 (34-41)
Sermon
by Mary S. Lautensleger
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Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day is a favorite book of children and adults alike. Things are always going wrong in Alexander's life, and we can identify with his laments. Alexander goes to bed with gum in his mouth and wakes up with gum in his hair. His teacher likes his friend Paul's sailboat picture better than Alexander's invisible castle, which she can't quite see. At the lunch table, while others are enjoying various delicious sweets, Alexander discovers that his mother is the only one who forgot to pack a dessert. His best friend Paul discovers two other boys he likes better, ranking poor Alexander as his third-best friend. Alexander "could tell that it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day."1 He decides he'll escape to Australia. But life has days like that, even in Australia.

Job probably felt very much like joining Alexander in Australia, especially after the reaction Job received from his so-called friends following the avalanche of problems that propelled themselves into his lap. With friends like those, he certainly didn't need enemies.

Job has three friends, Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar who hear about all the calamities that have befallen Job and come, thinking they will rescue him from himself. These "comforters" provide anything but comfort for their grieving friend. For seven days they sit and say nothing, a very good thing to do. They have left their herds, their fields, and their families to be present with their friend, and their hearts are in the right place.

Then, Job cries out, "I wish I had never been born. Why was I given life if I have to endure all this pain?" When friends are in pain we often feel that it is our responsibility to make them feel better. For this very reason, many of us keep our distance when friends experience losses. We feel inadequate, or that we won't know the "right" thing to say or do. Then we feel guilty for avoiding the individual and doing nothing.

After a funeral, Jewish people set aside seven days that are devoted to grieving. Mourners sit with their grief, remembering, weeping, dreaming, telling stories, and sharing memories. The bereaved do not work or play, call the office or wash dishes, watch television or go to the gym. This time is for one thing only, and that is exploring the emotional catalog of regret, relief, guilt, anger, shame, self-pity, and remorse.2 Jewish law requires that the immediate family spend this week acknowledging their loss and engaging in grief work. Grief is work!

Usually our presence, accompanied by our silence, is the greatest gift we can offer to a troubled or grieving friend. Job's friends have the right idea -- to start with, anyway. They sit in stunned silence for seven days, for an entire week. Much too frequently we try to take over for God, with all kind of explanations, when we are not God and we don't have the answers.

There are also times when our helpfulness can cause others to become dependent upon us to "make them feel good." In this case, they are unable to develop fully their own coping skills and the emotional resources they will need to see them through this and other tragedies that inevitably will touch their lives. Our presence alone can often be our greatest gift and comfort.

Job's friends might have been a great comfort to him, had they not tried to talk him out of his feelings and attempted to explain away his pain. His friend, Eliphaz, says, "Job, you've been a big help to many people who were in pain. Now it's your turn. Think, Job. Of all the people you have helped, did any of them ever suffer for nothing? Give your heart back to God, Job. Admit and confess your sinfulness. Then God will be good to you again, or else you will reap what you sow."

"I only wish God would kill me and get it over with," replies Job. "I can't handle any more pain. All I want is to die. What have I done to deserve all this?" Job knows he is innocent of the sins his friends accuse him of. To give in to his friends would be tantamount to denying reality.

Next Bildad has his say: "Come on Job. Pray and ask God's forgiveness. Then God will give you your health back. God will make everything all right again." Bildad even sinks low enough to suggest that Job's children perished because they were guilty of some unknown sin. Bildad believes the wicked will die terrible deaths, leaving no descendants behind to carry on the family names.

Zophar agrees with all Eliphaz and Bildad have said. The wicked may seem to have everything, but it will be taken from them in a flash. Even the children of the wicked are destined to suffer because of their ancestors' sins. They must visualize God as someone like "a high school principal in a gray suit who never remembered your name but is always leafing unhappily through your files."3

The visit results in a heated argument, as Job's friends try to impose their own beliefs upon him as a solution to his problems. The last thing he needs at this time is a sermon on God's unfailing justice. From gentle suggestions to specific accusations, they accuse him of sinning, believing this has to be the explanation for all he has gone through. Oddly enough, in all their comments, Job's friends never offer one single expression of encouragement, comfort, or hope.

The friends continue to argue with Job, the last thing a grieving person needs. They repeatedly tell Job that he is hiding some secret sins. Otherwise, God would never have let these tragedies happen to Job. They keep telling Job to confess his sins, turn his heart back toward God, and everything will be all right. Job knows better, though. He knows his own heart, and knows he has not sinned against God. His friends are insistent that traditional teachings about the nature of God must take precedence over Job's own experience. But, the story of Job confirms that human experience is a valid basis for testing the truth of religious teachings. Job is virtuous and faithful, yet look at what has happened to him. There is no relationship between prosperity and an individual's goodness, or lack thereof. The wicked can be rich and famous, while the poverty-stricken live holy and righteous lives.

Job's friends continue to rave and to attack Job's character. But, suffering has forged a stronger man, leaving Job to tower over the others. Suffering is painful, but it is also an opportunity, leading us to focus on what is really important in life.

Where is God in the midst of all our torment and trials? Job continues his search for God, and for answers. We all hunger for a relationship with God. Saint Augustine said, "Our hearts will be forever restless until they rest in thee."4 Within each of us is a void that only God can fill.

Job is angry that he still cannot find God. Where is a burning bush when you need one? Maybe God is wearing earplugs. Finally, from a majestic voice in the midst of a whirlwind, God speaks to Job, calling all these human arguments useless. God did not create the universe exclusively for use by humans. Therefore, the world and its Creator cannot be judged solely by human standards and goals. The natural world, though it is beyond humanity's understanding, does reveal to people its beauty and order.

It is reasonable to believe that the universe also exhibits a moral order with pattern and meaning, though it is beyond human power to comprehend fully. Who, then, is Job to challenge God? God continues to point out the vast differences between God, Creator of the universe, and humans. Instead of answers, Job receives a new worldview. God is God and Job is not. Job acknowledges his role as a human and admits his insignificance in the world order. Suffering is a part of life, and God often speaks to us through our suffering. We live by faith and trust in our Creator.

Job's grief is unique to his particular losses, just as ours is to our own personal losses and circumstances. Because each loss is unique, it is usually not helpful to share with a bereft person how we coped in a circumstance similar to theirs. The conversation then begins to focus on us rather than the one we have come to minister to.5

We try to make death acceptable by explaining it. Our need to say something, anything that may be comforting, leads us down a path we may not have fully considered. What the grieving one really needs is our presence and a shoulder to cry on, not our words. There are no adequate words for a time such as this.

The composer Beethoven, upon hearing about the death of a friend's child, hurried over to the residence to offer condolences. Due to his deafness, his communication skills left much to be desired. He had no words to speak, but he glimpsed a piano in one corner. He immediately sat down at the keyboard and began pouring his heart out through sonorous melodies and lavish harmonies. Beethoven's friend later commented that no other single act had been quite so uplifting and comforting.

So often we equate grieving only with death, but consider Job's other losses: his home, his health, and his livelihood. Natural disasters such as hurricanes, tornadoes, floods, earthquakes, and fires, have destroyed homes and our places of business. Frequently people define who they are by how they earn a living. Being unemployed is a little like having no name to call ourselves. It is frightening to consider not being able to provide for a family or having to depend on others financially. Our home is the place where we belong and where we keep our belongings. It is a safe haven and retreat from the world's concerns. A debilitating illness can change the face of all that we do and are. It will require major changes in lifestyles and activities, and possible dependence on others for daily necessities.

In A Letter of Consolation, Henri Nouwen writes that we can face our losses with open minds and hearts because consolation is found where wounded hearts hurt the most. Simply being with people in their pain, anger, hurt, sadness, or fearfulness demonstrates a deep connection with them. Your faces, your tears, your embraces will be etched in the griever's mind forever. Your presence is, for the griever, the body of Christ.

The big question is not, "What shall I say?" but "How well can I listen? How can I be an effective and empathetic listener?" A grieving person needs to talk about the loss and to remember. Grievers need to tell the story of their loss again and again.

Grievers may turn down invitations to get out and be with friends when that is the very action that is needed most. Be firm in encouraging them to go out and participate in activities with others, or to join you for an evening of games.

Trying to provide assurance that the pain will lessen or finally go away does not give hope in the present. It will more likely work to disavow the person's loss, and discount his or her pain.

There may be times when we think to ourselves, "Well, they got exactly what they deserved" or "He brought all these troubles upon himself." Don't go there. "Retribution and reward," or the idea that you get what you deserve, is an underlying biblical view, as we see from Job's friends. The world often seems to think this way. The retribution theory does not explain everything, though, and Job is a prime example. There is still much undeserved and unearned suffering in the world.

Grief is exhausting, and frequently grievers cannot remember or concentrate on normal, everyday tasks. A great gift is to take care of mundane things for another. Get the mail, answer the phone, and take out the garbage. Make a list of the people they will want to thank later. Chauffeur the griever on necessary errands.

In her book, Necessary Losses, Judith Viorst claims that the people we are and the lives we lead are determined by our loss experiences. We learn to live as we learn to grieve. Smaller losses need to be acknowledged and grieved along the way also, even when we fear others will not understand.

Job knows pain, which convinces him of nothing other than God's absence. His situation seems hopeless, yet he never gives up calling on God. Finally, when God does speak to Job out of that whirlwind, and Job confesses that he had tried to understand all these mysteries on his own. Job decided to leave things in God's capable hands. So "gird up the loins" of your hearts and minds. You are also in capable hands.


1. Judith Viorst, Absolutely Positively Alexander: The Complete Stories (New York: Athenium Books for Young Readers, 1997), pp. 1-31.

2. Anita Diamant, Saying Kaddish: How to Comfort the Dying, Bury the Dead and Mourn as a Jew (New York: Schocken Books, 1998).

3. Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life (Random House, 1995), p. 30.

4. Augustine, Confessions, trans. Albert Outler (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1955), p. 11.

5. You may need to mention that support groups and twelve-step organizations are different in that they are created to operate on the premise of equal sharing, which is most appropriate and necessary in those situations.

CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Sermons on the First Readings: Sermons for Sundays after Pentecost (Last Third), Heart to Heart , by Mary S. Lautensleger