Monday, September 27, 2010

Memorial of Saint Vincent de Paul, priest


"Naked I came forth from my mother's womb,
and naked shall I go back again.
The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away;
blessed be the name of the Lord!"

The Book of Job is considered one of the finest pieces of literature in all history. Not only does it raise some of the most fundamental questions of human life, it also has the decency not to answer them. Rather, it teaches us to ponder deeply the meaning of our own experience.
The Book may be confusing without some introduction. Modern scholars believe that an ancient scholar – a redactor -- collected stories about a mythical person, Job, who is, by definition, a totally innocent man suffering extreme tribulations. The ancients pondered, as we do, “How that could be?” Why do the innocent suffer; why do the wicked prosper?
Because it came from different sources, the book is a pastiche of different stories with different endings. We have one story about a Job who was finally rewarded for his fidelity under trial; a contradictory story about the Job who was not satisfied with anything he heard; and a third story of a Job who is stunned into obedient silence by an apparition of God. And, of course, none of the answers are very satisfying, not even the one that “God” says. But they’re all declared with wonderful eloquence.
The longest part of the book was supposed to be a series of remarks by Job’s counselors and his rebuttals. But that text, if it was ever complete, was garbled up somewhere and we only have significant fragments.
Can a book be wonderful even if it’s not complete? Many people admire the Venus de Milo, although she lost her arms centuries ago. Few people hesitate to hear Schubert’s Unfinished Symphony, and many people have studied Coleridge’s Kublai Khan. What we have of Job is awe-inspiring.

Today’s passage from the Book of Job concludes with the peaceful resignation of our hero. God is God; God will do what God wants to do; blessed be God! This is one answer to the question of suffering. As a mortal human being I have no claim on the immortal God. Everything God gives is grace, whether I like it or not. God is supreme; I am little better than the dust. There must be a God, but he doesn’t need me.
This teaching is not the last word in the Bible about human significance, but it is worth our reflection. It contradicts the entitlement so many of us expect. 
How do you feel when you read those four lines? Insulted? Angry? Relieved? Grateful? Puzzled? Do you think something more is owed to you? Would Jesus want you to think this way? Do you think he felt that way about himself? Do these words make you laugh or cry? If they make you weep, what are you crying about?
The Book of Job is a book of questions, and for that reason all the more faithful to the mystery of human life. 

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I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.

Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.

I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.

You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.