So, I realize I'm terribly behind on my blog, and I have no real excuses. Just laziness, or a feeling that I don't really anything to contribute, or some such idiocy.
Anyway, in case anyone is still interested my outreach project is a team effort with Charlie to get people in our respective cores to host dinners in their apartments. We will target someone once every other week, and see if that person is willing to play host. Charlie and I are planning to provide most of the food, although we greatly appreciate any assistance the core members are willing to provide.
The overall purpose of all of this is to try to get our core members to meet new people outside of the ministry, and to get them used to being hospitable. We hope to strengthen relationships they already have, promote unity in their apartments, and build new relationships with other people. We are planning to invite mainly people who are not from FOCUS to these events.
Right-o.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
What Was Job's Job?
I recently finished reading through most of the book of Job. I must say that Job completely confounds my entire conception of God, and makes me think through the rest of the Old Testament in an entirely new light.
In the beginning of the book, God brags about his servant Job to a mysterious figure called "the Satan" (according to Wikipedia). Whether this figure is Lucifer, or some sort of divine prosecutor is apparently in question. Regardless, the horrific result of the conversation is clear: Satan accuses Job of worshipping God out of selfishness (or, perhaps, out of a sort of twisted gratitude), and God gives Satan free reign over all of Job's possessions, and later over Job's body as well (with the caveat that Satan may not kill Job). The rest of the book describes an incredibly destructive and painful torment, with Job understandably confused and bitter.
The most interesting part of the book for me, however, occurs at the end, when God "answers" Job's confused questioning. Rather than offering any explanation, God simply sidesteps Job's questions and seems to accuse Job of a lack of faith. God's argument is essentially that He is all-powerful and Job should not question God's right to do anything He wants to. This is hardly the conception of divine justice I had when I came into the book.
Indeed, one could be forgiven for concluding that, far from possessing any sort of justice in the human sense of the term, God simply does what He pleases. Why does He do what He does? His answer seems to me like a cop-out--"I'm bigger than you, you wouldn't understand." While I certainly realize that I can never understand God, the complete lack of an explanation of any sort, no matter how nebulous, quite frankly leaves me feeling beyond perplexed.
In search of answers I look first to the rest of the Old Testament. There I find only more questions. God's mercy is tempered by an iron fist, which we see more often than not. I see Joshua ordered by the supposedly merciful God to slaughter men, women, and children. I see a man concealing idols, and his entire household swallowed up, with no mention of how involved they were. "The sins of the father are visited upon the third and fourth generation."
Yet, I also find God bearing with sinful Abram, after not once but twice he lies about his wife in a heavy-handed attempt to save his own skin. I find a God Who suffers through Josephs's arrogance and teaches him how to behave--through slavery and torment. I see God blessing Israel over and over--while they are doing what He tells them to.
So, the question remains: just who the hell is this crazy, schizophrenic God that I so readily give my allegiance to?
This duality in God's nature becomes even more confusing when I fast forward to Jesus, and see His "good" side so much more clearly. In fact, Jesus is so much closer in so many ways to my prior conception of God, that He seems to be a much different person from the God who essentially destroyed Job's life. He's severely harsh on religious oppressors, and blindingly merciful to the sinful people who flock about Him. He has a no-nonsense attitude towards huge crowds that are just looking for a good time. I see very clearly a loving, powerful strength.
But most confusing of all, I follow Jesus as He heals people. In stark contrast to His dealings with Job, it seems that God cares about human life on Earth, after all.
Philip Yancey postulates that the miracles Jesus performed were a sort of foretaste of what was to come. They were done to show what Jesus' kingdom was all about--creation rather than destruction, mercy overcoming vengeance. Jesus did not really ease the overall level of suffering on Earth--even His death and resurrection were aimed at eternal rather than temporal bliss.
This begs the disquieting question, which is the obvious and logical question that the book of Job poses: does God really give one bucket of swill what my life is like on Earth? Complicated questions of free will aside, is He so concerned with my soul that He is willing to completely disregard my fleshly body?
Don't misunderstand me. I am mostly content with my life--simply living in the United States means that I have very little cause to complain. My question is not necessarily one of complaint, but a deeper question of God's character, as well as a deeper look into this grand failed experiment we call Life.
Looking back over what I know of God, I would say that the answer has to be a qualified no. I think that what may at first glance appear to be a cop-out at the conclusion of Job, in reality is the key to the question at hand. God has much bigger and more important things to worry about than caring for my one short, tiny life amongst the swarming billions who live on this planet. In fact, God not only has to worry about my life, but the lives of everyone who lived before me, and everyone who will live after me. It's not a matter of God being spread too thin; it's a matter of perspective.
I wonder if this is why Job was comforted by God's words; he almost stopped caring about his life and just let God do what He will, because there was nothing Job could do about it. God does what He wants and offers no explanation. We can try to rationalize, to make sense of it all, and quite possibly go mad doing so, but the end result is that God does what God does. The only choice we really have is whether we're with Him or against Him.
It's enough to make you think twice about praying for an "A" on an exam that you didn't study for.
Kudos to anyone who reads all of this. :) I realize I'm a pretty verbose writer.
In the beginning of the book, God brags about his servant Job to a mysterious figure called "the Satan" (according to Wikipedia). Whether this figure is Lucifer, or some sort of divine prosecutor is apparently in question. Regardless, the horrific result of the conversation is clear: Satan accuses Job of worshipping God out of selfishness (or, perhaps, out of a sort of twisted gratitude), and God gives Satan free reign over all of Job's possessions, and later over Job's body as well (with the caveat that Satan may not kill Job). The rest of the book describes an incredibly destructive and painful torment, with Job understandably confused and bitter.
The most interesting part of the book for me, however, occurs at the end, when God "answers" Job's confused questioning. Rather than offering any explanation, God simply sidesteps Job's questions and seems to accuse Job of a lack of faith. God's argument is essentially that He is all-powerful and Job should not question God's right to do anything He wants to. This is hardly the conception of divine justice I had when I came into the book.
Indeed, one could be forgiven for concluding that, far from possessing any sort of justice in the human sense of the term, God simply does what He pleases. Why does He do what He does? His answer seems to me like a cop-out--"I'm bigger than you, you wouldn't understand." While I certainly realize that I can never understand God, the complete lack of an explanation of any sort, no matter how nebulous, quite frankly leaves me feeling beyond perplexed.
In search of answers I look first to the rest of the Old Testament. There I find only more questions. God's mercy is tempered by an iron fist, which we see more often than not. I see Joshua ordered by the supposedly merciful God to slaughter men, women, and children. I see a man concealing idols, and his entire household swallowed up, with no mention of how involved they were. "The sins of the father are visited upon the third and fourth generation."
Yet, I also find God bearing with sinful Abram, after not once but twice he lies about his wife in a heavy-handed attempt to save his own skin. I find a God Who suffers through Josephs's arrogance and teaches him how to behave--through slavery and torment. I see God blessing Israel over and over--while they are doing what He tells them to.
So, the question remains: just who the hell is this crazy, schizophrenic God that I so readily give my allegiance to?
This duality in God's nature becomes even more confusing when I fast forward to Jesus, and see His "good" side so much more clearly. In fact, Jesus is so much closer in so many ways to my prior conception of God, that He seems to be a much different person from the God who essentially destroyed Job's life. He's severely harsh on religious oppressors, and blindingly merciful to the sinful people who flock about Him. He has a no-nonsense attitude towards huge crowds that are just looking for a good time. I see very clearly a loving, powerful strength.
But most confusing of all, I follow Jesus as He heals people. In stark contrast to His dealings with Job, it seems that God cares about human life on Earth, after all.
Philip Yancey postulates that the miracles Jesus performed were a sort of foretaste of what was to come. They were done to show what Jesus' kingdom was all about--creation rather than destruction, mercy overcoming vengeance. Jesus did not really ease the overall level of suffering on Earth--even His death and resurrection were aimed at eternal rather than temporal bliss.
This begs the disquieting question, which is the obvious and logical question that the book of Job poses: does God really give one bucket of swill what my life is like on Earth? Complicated questions of free will aside, is He so concerned with my soul that He is willing to completely disregard my fleshly body?
Don't misunderstand me. I am mostly content with my life--simply living in the United States means that I have very little cause to complain. My question is not necessarily one of complaint, but a deeper question of God's character, as well as a deeper look into this grand failed experiment we call Life.
Looking back over what I know of God, I would say that the answer has to be a qualified no. I think that what may at first glance appear to be a cop-out at the conclusion of Job, in reality is the key to the question at hand. God has much bigger and more important things to worry about than caring for my one short, tiny life amongst the swarming billions who live on this planet. In fact, God not only has to worry about my life, but the lives of everyone who lived before me, and everyone who will live after me. It's not a matter of God being spread too thin; it's a matter of perspective.
I wonder if this is why Job was comforted by God's words; he almost stopped caring about his life and just let God do what He will, because there was nothing Job could do about it. God does what He wants and offers no explanation. We can try to rationalize, to make sense of it all, and quite possibly go mad doing so, but the end result is that God does what God does. The only choice we really have is whether we're with Him or against Him.
It's enough to make you think twice about praying for an "A" on an exam that you didn't study for.
Kudos to anyone who reads all of this. :) I realize I'm a pretty verbose writer.
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