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From The First Baptist Church in America pulpit – Providence, Rhode Island
"Where is God When it Hurts?" (Job 38:1‑11) – July 19, 2006
Dr. Dan Ivins, preaching

The story of Job grabs us because it’s a poignant story of irrational human pain. It pushes us to the edge and makes us ask unanswerable questions: “Why is this happening to me and how can it be fixed?” It brings out the best and worst in us, stripping away our illusions. Pain is provocative but not optional. It can be handled or mishandled any number of ways. We can avoid it; deny it; numb it or fight it. Or we can engage it and let it teach us what’s really real. One of the few things that can still do that. Awhile back there was a cute little novel called “The Velveteen Rabbit,” about a stuffed toy that examines what’s real. Emotional pain played a big role in the script.

God had a part too, because anybody with pain becomes a theologian. It’ll make you religious, whether you’re a believer or not. You find yourself praying to something: begging God, bargaining with God; cussing God; eventually turning away from the-God-in-charge-of-pain-removal, to the-God-who-stayed-with-you thru it all, no matter what you say. Show me somebody hurting and I’ll show you a changed somebody. Two years ago was the last time I spent some time in real pain, with bilateral hip resurfacing. I readily recall what that did to my faith in God; not to mention my inability to manage my life. It has erased most of what I thought about myself; because it assaulted my sense of self. And you’re no longer sure who you thought you were. “Who is this person who can no longer put on his socks? I’m not me anymore!”

People talk about wanting to get close to God. Try the pain route. It’s the fastest way you can take to a no-bull-encounter with the Holy. We don’t want to be that close to God, because we’ll do anything we can to elude it. Spend millions on pain-killers; drown our sorrows in drugs. There was a bar near where I lived in Arizona called “Lose Yourself Bar.” “Wastin’ away again @ Margaritaville” sings Jimmy Buffet, drowning in his juice. The best thing about that is he assigns the fault to himself! From what I’ve seen, it’s harder to sit with somebody in pain than it is to feel it yourself. Nobody hurting wears a mask. Pain can’t be faked. And you can forget about all the tabloid gossip and periferal fluff that occupies our days and nights.

There’s a difference between pain and suffering. Pain needs a body to hurt in: creaky joints, frayed nerves, broken bones, invading tumors. You can get a hold of pain and touch where it hurts. Suffering needs no body -- because it’s mental and emotional. You’ve got to have a brain to suffer. The mind decides what pain means, even if there’s no apparent meaning to be had. Or whether it’s deserved. Mental notes are taken about who comes to visit. And who doesn’t. Memories recall how-good-it-used-to-be and not likely to be again. The mind makes judgments, measures loss, assesses blame and assigns guilt. Suffering is much worse than pain. The sad part is the illusion that it can be controlled. If not by us, then by love or magic, or trying to manipulate a power greater than us.

God’s greatest servants suffered great pain. The Apostle Paul had a “thorn in the flesh.” He begged God to remove it. But God didn’t remove it. Rather he said, “My grace is sufficient.” Paul asked for healing and what he got was grace. There is pain with no known cause. Just as there is pain with no known cure. Then it’s natural to connect intense woundedness to divine justice. Or injustice. That makes “Where is God when it hurts?” one of the oldest questions in the book. If God is all power and all good, then why do hurtful things happen to good people? Else there must not be a God.

That’s the theme of the Book of Job. The oldest book in the Bible is about undeserved, inexplicable pain. But God never gets around to answering Job. And that theological silence hurts worse than any rancid boil. But it does expose the simplistic, traditional, religious answers. Watching ol' Job climb up on his dung heap and curse the day he was born…it’s hard not to empathize. He did everything right and all he got for it was unimaginable suffering with incomprehensible wrong. He was a good man who feared God and turned away from evil. He was also wealthy, blessed with a lovely wife. And they had ten kids, a ton of livestock and enough helpers to look after a zoo. His misfortune struck through no fault of his own. Job’s minding his own business down on planet earth one day.

But up in the realm of "principalities and powers" he becomes the subject of conversation between God and “Satan,” not to be confused with the Devil. The idea of an evil being who operates separately from God didn't develop within Judaism until after the Persian deportation. However, in the author's day, he was a perfectly respectable member of God's cabinet. His Hebrew name was hasatan, the Accuser, whose job was to bring people to trial. But only when God permitted it. He had no power to do anything except that which was allowed by God. I'm not even sure he meant to get Job in trouble. But that's what happened. God’s up there bragging on Job, "There’s nobody like this guy in all the earth."

"Well begging your pardon, Sir, but who wouldn't?" said the Prosecutor. "You continually shower him with blessings. Job doesn't worship you for nothing.” Hurt him financially. Take everything he has away and I bet he’ll curse you to your face." Either because God was so sure the Adversary was wrong or because God’s afraid he might be right, permission was granted to test his premise. Like a heavenly card game, the “anti was upped” as the pain intensified. And before long, Job lost everything. His animals were stolen, the house fell on his servants and kids, his sheep struck with lightning.

Job's response to these massive losses set him apart from ordinary human beings. God was right, too. There was no one like Job on all the earth. In a formal display of grief, he tore his robe, shaved his head, and lay face down in the dirt. "The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away, blessed be the name of the Lord." I told you it’ll make you a theologian. But the Adversary ratchet’s it higher. "That's because you didn't lay a hand on him. Hurt him physically, then he’ll curse you to your face." God gave the OK. And itching sores came out on Job's body, from the sole of his feet to the top of his head. That pretty much covers everything. Job's wife had seen enough and advised him to just “cuss God out and die!” But Job still wouldn't do it. Instead he scratched himself with a piece of pottery and sat there speechless on a pile of horse manure.

Then three of his buddies show up and sit with him for a week without saying a word. Watching somebody suffer made them speechless too. Finally Job meets his limit and erupts: cursing his birthday, wishing he didn’t survive childbirth. He whines and pleads his case for seven chapters. His “friends” who were full of compassion for him when he said nothing -- now became very defensive when he starts to rail at God. The God‑defenders, espouse the old Deuteronomic theology, and told Job he must’ve done something, something bad, or all this wouldn't have happened to him. Because God doesn't make mistakes, sight? So they pounce on Job, compounding his suffering! Some friends.

But Job knew he wasn't that guilty. And God knows too. What’s happening to him defies all sense of justice, which drives his friends nuts! So they devise pious theories to explain why it happened. And the more Job suffers, the more platitudes they dish up. Meanwhile Job continues to take it to God. He’s covered with boils, yelling at God "I did everything you wanted. How can you allow this to happen to me?" Reminiscent of another Child of God: "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?" And the Lord responds to Job, which was more than Jesus got. "Out of the whirlwind" God speaks "Shall a fault-finder contend with the Almighty? Who laid down the cornerstone of the earth, while the morning stars burst out singing and the angels shouted for joy?" God overpowers Job in four chapters with wave after wave of almighty-ness. But never answers Job's interrogation “why?” Job's question was about justice. God's answer is about omnipotence. And as far as I can tell, that’s the only answer any of us will ever get about why things happen the way they do. God only knows. And we’re not God.

So it was a great day when I quit trying to explain human suffering. The Book of Job helped me to see that suffering is not meant to be explained, but endured and overcome. And that’s the difference between the faith in certainty and the certainty of faith. The author of Job’s answer to the problem of unjustified suffering is: the worst thing that can happen is not to suffer without reason, but to suffer without God. Or any hope of consolation or to learn a lesson. All other pain pales next to the pain of divine abandonment.

But according to Job, we are not abandoned. When nothing is left, when the flocks are gone, and the kids buried, and we’re not ourselves anymore, all that’s left is a potsherd with which to scratch our sores – and standing over in the corner holding the bandages is the loving God of all creation, who laid the foundation of the earth, walking in the recesses of the deep; who made Behemoth and Leviathan and everything that breathes or swims. All that's left is the Lord of all life, who never runs out of life, and from whom we can always expect more life.

I’m glad the Book of Job is in the Bible, because it gives us permission to "blast God" when we’re hurting! God is big enough to take our rage. And we don't have to be polite about it, either. God prefers Job's honest outrage to the phony piety of Job's buddies. But someday God’s gonna have a lot to answer for! And maybe we’ll get to ask him.

So Job and other pioneers give up asking the unanswerable question “why bad things happen to good people?” Because the wisdom of pain taught them the real question is not why but when. What do you do when pain and suffering pulls the rug from under you? How can breakdown become breakthrough? May I offer some suggestions? Being there with the hurting, offering encouragement, paying attention, relying on rituals, soothing music, offering symbolic gifts.

There’ll always be people who run from pain and suffering. Just as there’ll always be religions to try to explain it. But biblical religion teaches us that life can be as full of meaning as it is of hurt. These two have never canceled each other out and I doubt they ever will. But until then, devout defiance will have to do.

Providence Prayers: (7/19/09)
O God, before whom "the angels shout for joy," but who comes to us “out of a whirlwind,” to speak in a “still, small, voice;” in need of nothing we can give, but gives us everything we need ... except safety and protection. That ceased to be a possibility once we were created free. We thank Thee for this church and the gracious Spirit of Jesus, that informs our worship, and sometimes reforms it. And for Thy ancient, relevant Word which edifies us and corrects us; enlightens us and challenges us. May the church always point us toward Thy truth -- so we’ll be scornful of the cowardice, afraid to face new truth, the laziness content with half truth, and the arrogance that thinks it knows all truth.

There’s enough hunger for truth in this life that makes us question Divine existence. May this worship strengthen not only our faith in Thee, but our resolve for justice, for wrongs to be made right, for love to prevail over hate. Fill our hearts with courage, so that we won’t give in to bitterness or self-pity or vengeance but learn to count our setbacks as but straws on the ebb and flow of the tides of life. Our faith teaches us that not even death can defeat Thy purposes, so let not hopelessness or fear defeat us. We pray for the caregivers who volunteer their time to be of help; for men and women who sacrifice to keep law and order, for firemen who risk their lives to save others, and for our political and religious leaders who make decisions on behalf of the common good.

We offer our spiritual energies for those with special needs. Give comfort to the bereaved, encouragement to the disillusioned, wisdom to the confused, strength to the weak, health to the sick, love to the lonely. And where we may represent Thee in any such care, grant us the grace to enter into their need with Thy tender love. It is Jesus himself who prompts us to form these prayers and in his name that we offer them …