The readings are (to read them, go HERE):
Job 1:1; 2:1-10
Psalm 26
Hebrews 1:1-4; 2:5-12
Mark 10:2-16
Our Psalm today starts off with this verse:
“Give judgment for me, O Lord,
for I have walked with integrity;
I have trusted in the Lord and have not faltered.”
And it goes on with the psalmist detailing some of his virtues and saying how well he has obeyed the commands of the Lord. He is even telling God that he is ready to be judged, ready to be tested, so that he can prove how righteous he is.
We are reading this psalm because of the passage from the Book of Job that we started off with. On Sundays, the psalm we read is always meant as a response to the Old Testament reading, so they will fit together in some way. And our Old Testament reading, from Job, tells of a very righteous man. He has done everything right.
Now the passage we heard from Job left out a significant chunk — almost all of Chapter 1 of the book, which gives the setup for the story. Job is described several times as “blameless and upright, one who fears God and turns away from evil.” Plus, he is very wealthy. He has seven sons and three daughters; lots of servants; and a great quantity of livestock — 12,000 in all. He is also very devout toward God. In fact, his sons and daughters are all grown up, it seems, and they like to get together for feasts. In other words, they like to party together. And when the feasts are over, Job will sanctify his children — he will bless them — and he will do religious rituals on their behalf just in case they had sinned or cursed God. So as I said, Job is blameless and upright.
And in the setup for the story, we also don’t hear that Job has already been examined by God, in a sense. An assembly of heavenly beings present themselves to God, including Satan. God points out how righteous Job is, and Satan says basically, “Well of course he is. He has everything, and you have protected him, God. But take it all away, and,” Satan says, “he will curse you to your face.”
So God gives Satan permission to take it all away, as long as he doesn’t afflict Job’s person. So the next we hear, it’s all gone: various roving bands of bandits kill some servants and take the oxen, donkeys, and camels; a fire kills more servants and burns up the 7,000 sheep; and a wind destroys the house where Job’s sons and daughters are feasting, and they all die. Everything Job has is gone.
And Job grieves and says, “The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”
So next Satan goes to God and says, basically, “Well of course he’s not cursing you, God, because he’s still healthy. ‘But… touch his bone and his flesh, and he will curse you to your face.’” So God gives Satan permission to affect Job’s body, as long as Job doesn’t die. And still Job doesn’t curse God. Instead he says, “Shall we receive the good at the hand of God, and not receive the bad?”
Well, the story continues from there. We’ll hear more of it the next few weeks.
I have often thought of the Book of Job these past 20 months, as we have lived through Covid — but not only Covid, but also rampant wildfires in various places, petrol and food shortages, shipping problems, volcanoes, hurricanes, and a variety of other problems. The other day the head of the Bank of England said, “What’s next? A plague of locusts?” But we’ve had that also, in Africa last year. It has seemed as though Satan went to God and said, “Can I loose a plague on the human race? Please? How about a few wildfires and other problems? Pretty please?”
Except … there’s a problem with thinking that. None of us is either as blameless as Job, on the one hand, or has suffered quite so much, on the other.
Now, let me address both of these issues. First, the idea that none of us have suffered quite so much as Job did. One of the things one learns from being a priest is how much tragedy exists in people’s lives. As I listen to the story of people’s lives, or even as I just watch people, I am constantly aware that people in our pews are dealing with, or have dealt with, a whole lot more trouble than most people around them ever know. But most of us, at least here, even if we have lost a lot, have not lost everything. Job lost it all, except for his wife and a few friends, but as the story turns out, they are not of much comfort. Still, the Book of Job is a great thing for people to read when they suffer a whole slew of tragedy. I once recommended it to someone who lost close to everything.
The second idea is that none of us is as blameless as Job was. The Book of Job is a great thing to read when bad things happen to good people because we might feel that we are like Job. Well, we may be more successful than many, and we may be more righteous than some people, but I’m going to venture to say that none of us is as blameless as Job was. That psalm we read —
“Give judgment for me, O Lord,
for I have walked with integrity;
I have trusted in the Lord and have not faltered.
Test me, O Lord, and try me;
examine my heart and my mind.”
Well, I’m not ready to say this to the Lord. I know my sins too well, and there are probably plenty of sins that the Lord sees that I’m not so very conscious of. May God help me to walk with integrity.
So to get back to that imagined scenario of Satan saying to God, “Let me toss a plague on them,” I don’t think that we’re so blameless here on earth that what is happening to us is the same as happened to Job.
In fact, Jesus uses a term in the Gospel reading that describes a response to life that is rampant in the world: hardness of heart. Jesus uses the phrase in a response to a question from the Pharisees about divorce, an occasion that is full of both tragedy and often sin. But hardness of heart applies to many circumstances in life, and both tragedy and sin can lead to hardness of heart. It is a general response that is rampant in the world today, as people turn a hard heart toward neighbour and family and life itself.
And Jesus offers us a cure for hardheartedness.[1] He is the cure. He helps us confront the fact that we are not so blameless as we would like to think, and he also helps us deal with the tragedies that come upon us in life. Through him we come to know our sins, but also receive forgiveness for them. And Christ offers us comfort in the midst of tragedy and nourishes us and sustains us with his very self, through the Holy Communion and prayer and his presence in those people who approach us with a heart open to our woes and open to God and who help to sustain us through tragedy.
The opposite of hardheartedness is the kingdom of God itself, which Jesus is bringing to those who listen to him. “Let the children come to me,” he says; “…for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs.” It means not just the young in age, but those who dare to approach him with a heart ready to be forgiven and open to receive him.
Lord Christ, forgive our sins, be with us during tragedies, receive us, show us the way, and sustain us with your presence each and every day.
[1] N. T. Wright, Mark for Everyone, p. 132.