Memorial of Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus, virgin and doctor of the Church

http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/100112.cfm

Climb every mountain!

Job answered his friends and said:
I know well that it is so;
but how can a man be justified before God?
Should one wish to contend with him,
he could not answer him once in a thousand times.
God is wise in heart and mighty in strength;
who has withstood him and remained unscathed?

Saint Thérèse would surely agree with the Sage Job, though she might say it with much more effervescent joy. "Can a human being be justified before God?" 

Job sounds wisely resigned to the overwhelming majesty of God. The Divine Author of this book lived in a hierarchical world. Most people struggled to survive against the forces of nature, prospering when the weather was agreeable to their herds and crops, perishing when nature turned on them. But some people ruled by force of law, custom and arms; and they survived even the worst of times. They were vulnerable only to foreign invasion. 

They had an authority which vaguely resembled that of God. They could reduce mountains and fill in seas, as Alexander the Great did when he built a causeway to the island of Tyre and conquered the city. They could seize the common man, strip him of his possessions, home and family and "Who could say him nay?" or challenge him with, "What are you doing?" 

But even a casual glance at the sunrise, the night sky, the weather, the land or sea would reveal God's overwhelming authority. If kings could reduce mountains and fill in valleys to build their highways, they could not make the earth tremble with an earthquake, or sweep the land with a tsunami. 

How could a man justify his existence before such a God? Could he stand up and say, "I have my rights?" 

But, in fact, Job does exactly that. With his violated sense of justice and his anger which, unanswered, turns to resentment: he dares to speak against God. Ordinary logic insists:

Even though I were right, I could not answer him, but should rather beg for what was due me. If I appealed to him and he answered my call, I could not believe that he would hearken to my words.

But Job will speak because he cannot not speak. Like the old woman in Jesus' parable he will insist, "Give me my rights!" 

I am not familiar enough with Saint Thérèse to point to a place in her autobiography where she complained against God. But I am told her unedited notes, published since I read the bowdlerized version many years ago, contain some passages which are not quite as sweet as the Victorians preferred. The Christian who is familiar with Saint Paul's writing will expect a certain amount of push back from even the holiest saints. 

We admire the Book of Job because his violated sense of fair play is irrepressible. He will speak despite all the warnings and rationalizations of his friends and the fearfulness of his own trembling flesh. He will defy God to justify himself in the sight of men. 

And God will reply. Not everyone believes that the closing chapters of the book adequately reflect the Voice of God. That Voice says nothing that has not been said in earlier chapters. Rather, God replies with the silence of Jesus, who 

“Like a sheep, he was led to the slaughter, and as a lamb before its shearer is silent, ... he opened not his mouth. In (his) humiliation justice was denied him. Who will tell of his posterity? For his life is taken from the earth.”