This Sunday’s first reading is a very short excerpt from the book of Job. I suppose because it matches Mark’s account of Jesus calming the storm:
The Lord addressed Job out of the storm and said:
Who shut within doors the sea,
when it burst forth from the womb;
when I made the clouds its garment
and thick darkness its swaddling bands?
When I set limits for it
and fastened the bar of its door,
and said: Thus far shall you come but no farther,
and here shall your proud waves be stilled!
As I say, repeatedly, a decent spiritual practice is to be led by the liturgical life of the Church. We do not know how to pray as we ought says Paul. But, he continues, the Spirit leads us. And, as Jesus promised, the Spirit dwells in the Church. So, there you have it. You don’t know how to pray as you ought: be led, not by your own whims and desires, but by the Spirit through the Church.
So, Job.
It’s Sunday’s first reading. Have you ever read the entire book? Like, from the Bible?
No?
Why not try it?
Why not take a few minutes that you’re spending scrolling through the Gram or Twitter or Reddit and give some time to this instead?
You might be surprised.
What do we think we all know about Job?
He’s…patient. Right? The “patience of Job.”
I have no idea where that came from, for in my reading, Job isn’t patient. Well, maybe he is in the sense that he could have, early on, beat up on his super-helpful “friends,” but didn’t. So sure – patient.
But other than that? No.
Job, as you probably know, suffers greatly. Everything is taken from him in tragic and faithful ways.
Well, say his friends. You probably deserve it, bud.
You must have done something to bring on the divine wrath in this way. Say you’re sorry and move on.
But guess what?
Job doesn’t buy this line, at all. No, he says. Sure I’m a sinner, but there’s nothing I’ve done to deserve every member of my family being taken from me, all my earthly goods wiped out and me, here, covered in boils. Nothing.
And so, much of the book of Job is this…argument. The friends trying to convince Job that he deserved this, Job fighting back and questioning, questioning, questioning.
Finally, God steps in.
God answers. In a whirlwind, in a storm, God comes to Job.
Well, who are you? God asks. Where were you when I made all this?
What do you know about any of this?
Nothing. Nada. Not a thing, of course. Because God’s ways are great and so much bigger, and we are so small, and our perspective so limited.
In the end, Job understands. Despite not getting the answer he thought he was looking for, he encountered Truth.
When I read Job, here’s one of the points I take away.
In this narrative, God comes in a very personal way to one character. He addresses one figure, he meets one person, if not face-to-face, as close as is possible. if your name’s not Moses.
Job.
The one who argued, who refused to accept platitudes, the one who asked questions.
And Job, the one who wouldn’t stop asking those questions, once he was met by the answer of the living God, stepped back, stepped away and acknowledged the vast difference between himself, a creature, and the Creator is in the end rewarded, while the friends who blandly assured Job of what they knew was true? Well, the Lord’s anger blazes against them because they, God’s purported defenders had not “spoken rightly” about the Almighty.
Go chew on that for a while.
Perhaps patience here can be defined, not as compliant silence, but as deep trust that doesn’t preclude seeking, probing and questions. And is prepared to be put in one’s place when the answers finally arrive.
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For children (yes):
I don’t have this book anymore, but it was a favorite. It’s not in print either, but you can probably find a copy somewhere. Oh, I see it’s been reissued as a board book now.
Originally – Who’s a Friend of the Water-Spurting Whale? illustrated, obviously, by Tomie de Paola, now God is Great, God is Good.
Charlotte was Both 