“Does Job fear God for nothing?” Satan replied.
Job 1:9 (NIV)

As a child, I remember my concept of God was that of a omnipotent source of all blessings and suffering in my life. The relationship was transactional in nature. Every strongly felt desire prompted an internal debate about what good I had to do, or what wrong I had to avoid or atone for, in order for God to grant my wish. Likewise, any experiential suffering in life was, of course, the result of my fatal flaws. Surely, I did something to warrant all four Vikings Super Bowl losses in the 1970s. My sins were just that bad.

I grew up. My relationship with God became very real, and I began to realize how foolish and vainglorious was my childish belief that I was solely responsible for every perceived fortune and misfortune in life. Nevertheless, there is a thread of wisdom throughout the Great Story that lays out a seemingly contractual system. Follow God’s ways and be blessed. Follow the path of evil and painful consequences will follow. While this is generally true, the human experience reveals that there are, and always have been, exceptions to the general rule. Good people suffer horrendous evils they don’t deserve. Evil people seemingly prosper and escape any earthly consequences for their actions. Both of these earthly realities are humanely unjust. How do we reconcile these exceptions?

That’s the question that Job grapples with.

The story of Job is one of the oldest and most difficult stories in all of the Great Story. The basic plot is well-known. A godly man who has done nothing wrong is allowed to suffer in what appears to be a spiritual test-case, to determine whether or not the man will lose his faith and curse God. My experience is that very few people have actually waded into the text itself which is an extensive exploration of human suffering and the theological arguments that ultimately fall short of explaining a justification for it.

The opening chapter is a prologue to the main story. The scene is set in God’s counsel chambers as God points out what a good man Job is. Satan then asks a pertinent question: “Does Job fear God for nothing?” It goes to the heart of my childish spiritual notions. Do we fear and serve God in exchange for security and blessing? The accuser even seems to implicate God in the question and give some credence to my perceptions of a tit-for-tat, quid pro quo relationship between faith and blessing: “Have you not put a hedge around him and his household and everything he has? You have blessed the work of his hands, so that his flocks and herds are spread throughout the land.“

God allows the adversary to put Job to the test, and Job experiences the worst day of his life. His wealth is stolen or destroyed and all ten of his children are killed when the house they were feasting in collapses from a derecho wind.

The result?

Job, in his sudden grief, utters his famous faith-filled lament:

“Naked I came from my mother’s womb,
    and naked I will depart.
The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away;
    may the name of the Lord be praised.”

In the quiet this morning, I find myself entering this latest trek through Job with mixed feelings. My previous journeys through Job reveal it to be a story that asks big, challenging life questions that test the human limitations of understanding. I have always found it both uncomfortable and humbling. At the same time, I have also found beauty in the struggle of wrestling with Job’s core questions, which I have found to be ironically consistent with the experience of suffering itself.

The first challenging question: Do I fear God for nothing?

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.