Authors: Bart D. Ehrman
God's Problem (25 page)
Teach me, and I will be silent;
make me understand how I have
gone wrong.
How forceful are honest words!
But your reproof, what does it
reprove?…
But now, be pleased to look at
me;
for I will not lie to your face….
Is there any wrong on my tongue?
Cannot my taste discern
calamity? (Job 6:24–25, 28, 30)
In graphic and powerful images Job insists that despite his innocence, God has lashed out at him and attacked him and ripped into his body like a savage warrior on the attack:
I was at ease, and he broke me in
two;
he seized me by the neck and
dashed me to pieces;
he set me up as his target;
his archers surround me.
He slashes open my kidneys, and
shows no mercy;
he pours out my gall on the
ground.
He bursts upon me again and
again;
he rushes at me like a warrior….
My face is red with weeping,
and deep darkness is on my
eyelids,
though there is no violence in my
hands,
and my prayer is pure. (Job 16:12–14, 16–17)
With violence he seizes my
garment;
he grasps me by the collar of
my tunic.
He has cast me into the mire,
and I have become like dust and
ashes.
I cry to you and you do not
answer me;
I stand, and you merely look at
me.
You have turned cruel to me;
with the might of your hand
you persecute me. (Job 30:18–21)
Job constantly feels God’s terrifying presence, which he cannot escape even through sleep at night. He pleads with God to relieve his torment, to leave him in peace just long enough to allow him to swallow:
When I say, “My bed will comfort
me,
my couch will ease my
complaint,”
then you scare me with dreams
and terrify me with visions,
so that I would choose strangling
and death rather than this body.
I loathe my life; I would not live
forever.
Let me alone, for my days are a
breath….
Will you not look away from me
for a while,
let me alone until I swallow my
spittle? (Job 7:13–16, 19)
In contrast, those who are wicked prosper, with nothing to fear from God:
Why do the wicked live on,
reach old age, and grow mighty
in power?
Their children are established in
their presence,
and their offspring before their
eyes.
Their houses are safe from fear,
and no rod of God is upon
them….
They sing to the tambourine and
the lyre,
and rejoice to the sound of the
pipe.
They spend their days in
prosperity,
and in peace they go down to
Sheol. (Job 21:7–9, 12–13)
This kind of injustice might be considered less unfair if there were some kind of afterlife in which the innocent were finally rewarded and the wicked punished, but for Job (as for most of the Hebrew Bible’s authors) there is no justice after death either:
As waters fail from a lake,
and a river wastes away and
dries up,
so mortals lie down and do not
rise again;
until the heavens are no more,
they will not awake
or be roused out of their sleep. (Job 14:11–12)
Job realizes that if he tried to present his case before the Almighty, he would not have a chance: God is simply too powerful. But that doesn’t change the situation. Job is in fact innocent, and he knows it:
God will not turn back his anger….
How then can I answer him,
choosing my words with him?
Though I am innocent, I cannot
answer him;
I must appeal for mercy to my
accuser.
If I summoned him and he
answered me,
I do not believe that he would
listen to my voice.
For he crushes me with a tempest,
and multiplies my wounds
without cause…
If it is a contest of strength, he is
the strong one!
If it is a matter of justice, who
can summon him?
Though I am innocent, my own
mouth would condemn me;
though I am blameless, he
would prove me perverse. (Job 9:13–20)
In this, Job is prescient. For at the end of the poetic dialogues God does appear before Job—who is innocent and blameless—and cows him into submission by his fearful presence as the Almighty Creator of all. Still, though, Job insists on presenting his case before God, insisting on his own righteousness and his right to declare his innocence: “[M]y lips will not speak falsehood;…until I die I will not put away my integrity from me” (Job 27:3–4). He is sure that God must agree, if only he could find him to present his case:
Oh, that I knew where I might
find him,
that I might come even to his
dwelling!
I would lay my case before him,
and fill my mouth with
arguments.
I would learn what he would
answer me,
and understand what he would
say to me.
Would he contend with me in the
greatness of his power?
No; but he would give heed to
me.
There an upright person could
reason with him,
and I should be acquitted
forever by my judge. (Job 23:3–7)
