Part 3: Wisdom in the Whirlwind
In my first post on Middleton's book, Abraham's Silence, I indicated that the story of God asking Abraham to sacrifice Isaac has always been a sort of theological thorn in my side. It is a story that has always bothered me greatly. If God asked that of a human (even if that request came thousands of years ago), then I don't know how to think or feel about God. For some, the story is something to skirt over or a straightforward story of exemplary faith. That won't suffice for me, but neither will flirting with theologies of divine change. Maybe, it is sometimes asked if God has changed over time. I still need something else. You can try to set me up on a blind date with a serial killer while insisting that they have changed over the years into a compassionate and loving human being, but I am still not taking that date. I want a reasonable explanation of the story as it comes to us in Genesis.
My first hint that something might be amiss in the story of Abraham and Isaac came from the author Leonard Sweet. He briefly but compellingly showcases that the relationship between Isaac and Abraham at the end of the ordeal tips the reader off that all is not as it seems. Middleton, by contrast, is slow and methodical in his approach. Only a third of the book is devoted to the actual story. The first two-thirds of the book is Middleton building his case. For anyone familiar with the lament Psalms, the book's first section is skippable. In short, we learn from the lament Psalms that we are free to speak our truth to God in the face of suffering. Our truth may not be the whole picture, but in prayer and worship, we do not deny our experience of how suffering makes us feel.
However, Middleton's work on the book of Job is essential reading. It provides incredible interpretive clues for the Abraham/Isaac story and stands on its own as a powerful interpretation of an incredibly hard-to-understand book. So, to the book of Job, we turn our attention.
The Purpose of Job
So, what is the purpose of the Book of Job? Middleton highlights several purposes. To start, it is an exercise in wisdom. In this sense, the book is parabolic. Like the stories of Jesus, the purpose is to stimulate reflection and wise living in listeners. The story is not an account of an actual situation.
Building on that, the central question of concern in the book, according to Middleton, is then, "What should a wise or righteous person say (especially about/to God) in the face of terrible suffering?" Many have asserted that the Book of Job addresses the problem of suffering. Still, as William P Brown notes, "The Book of Job offers no explanation for suffering, even as it provocatively sets up the problem." This is critical. The book itself will weigh in on why explaining suffering is problematic. Instead, it has us wrestle through what kind of speech is appropriate in the face of suffering. Read that way, the book suddenly makes a lot more sense.
As Middleton writes, "The question of the book seems to be whether God approves of Job's abrasive complaints about his suffering. Is protesting to God, or about God, concerning one's circumstances, viewed in the book of Job as a form of speech that manifests wisdom? It speaks to a larger question. When tragedy befalls us, when the world does not seem just, when even God seems not to be acting in character, what should our response be?"
If we can accept this as the central question of Job, then there are two other secondary purposes for the book, according to Middleton. First, it acts as a sequel (or response to) the Abraham/Isaac story. The book functions as a second swing at Abraham's dilemma. Second, while the book offers no solid theology of suffering, it does offer a correction to the lousy theology presented by Job's friends (their bad theology is still at work today).
Two Big Problems
People are often attracted to the book of Job for the same reason as the Psalms: brute honesty. But the book presents us with two problems. First, what are we to make of God's wager with the Accuser? And second, though we might be attracted to Job's honesty, the end of the book seems to showcase God ploughing Job down for his human stupidity. We might like Job's honesty, but a simple reading of the book suggests God doesn't love it so much. What are we to do with that?
Let's start with the wager. Middleton is helpful here in putting this puzzle to bed. The book "does not intend to teach either history or theology. It isn't about events that really happened or what God is really like. Be careful in taking the figure of the Accuser in the book of Job as representing a clearly delineated theology. Given that he shows up only in the prologue, it may be that the Accuser is no more than a literary figure meant to get the story going." Fair enough, a literary tool to start the action and get us thinking.
The second problem, what Middleton calls "the blustery nature of God's response to Job's complaints", is not as easy to pass over. So, what do we learn from this whirlwind God and his interaction with Job?
The Wisdom in the Whirlwind
Let's start by being clear about what Job does and does not say to or about God within the book. The story begins with the wager. Initially, the Accuser can inflict suffering on Job, but it only goes so far. In Chapter 1, Job losses his cattle (wealth) and his four children. Immediately after learning about these losses, Job utters the words that would one day be turned into a famous worship song. "The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised." I have never liked that song. It has always seemed to need more honesty.
Interestingly, this line from Job comes immediately after he learns of his first losses. Job hasn't had time to dwell or reflect on them. Perhaps Job's initial reaction should be seen as a naïve attempt to put on a brave face while trying to stuff grief he hasn't given himself time to process?
Phase two of the Accuser inflicting suffering on Job sees him face extreme physical pain. Job's theology is worth noting at this point. In 1:21, he says God gives and takes away. In 2:10, he asks his wife if they should "accept good from God, and not trouble?" For Job, at this point, God is the cause behind every experience. Health, wealth, sickness, or poverty; all of it comes from God. The whirlwind will have something to say about this in the book's final chapters.
There is then a shift that takes place. Job's friends come to sympathize with and comfort him. But it is worth noting that they spend seven days in silence before any more words are spoken—thinking, reflecting, brooding, processing.
When Job finally breaks the silence, in concert with the lament tradition of the Psalms, Job's tone has drastically changed. He is no longer singing worship songs. Throughout the following thirty-six chapters, Middleton reminds us frequently that Job is incredibly bold in his speech. Job "explodes into a passionate malediction and . . . utters a torrent of audacious words. His outburst is like an X-rated lament psalm." After having some time to process his losses, Job no longer seems content with a God who gives and takes away, a God who gives good and trouble.
Despite his complaints toward God throughout the book, it is essential to point out what Job doesn't say or do. If the primary question of the book is how a wise person should speak to/about God in the face of suffering, Job about says it all. Yet, he doesn't speak several things. First, he doesn't curse God. Second, aside from his moment of worship in chapter 1, he certainly isn't worshipping through the rest of the book. Third, he doesn't ask for revenge. Fourth, he doesn't ask for a return to health or prosperity. Fifth and finally, he doesn't try to rationalize his suffering. The only thing Job asks for, amidst his complaints and laments, is for God to hear his case and respond.
For thirty-six chapters, we hear from Job intermittently but are forced to sit through long-winded speeches by his friends. Whereas Job's theology suggests God as the root cause for all things (good and ill), Job's friends hold a similar, albeit slightly different, theology. All the friends seem to accept some version of a causal relationship between sin and suffering. 'You suffer, Job,' they brazenly suggest, 'because you have done something wrong.' For them, suffering is self-inflicted. God is always in the right and can do no wrong, so Job's words are seen as inappropriate. Further, humans are insignificant in the grand scheme of things, so, 'Job, keep your mouth shut. You are out of line.'
Finally, in chapter 38, we hear from God. What to make of this God speaking from a whirlwind storm? Regardless of what is communicated in chapters 38‑42, these chapters are just a stunning series of questions and queries towards Job about the grandeur of the natural world. It is lovely to read even without weighty questions hanging in the background. I have always thought it would be brilliant to have these words by God narrated by David Attenborough while the Planet Earth crew set it to orchestral music and awe-inspiring shots of the natural world.
I digress, though. There is a lot to unpack here. What is God doing? Bullying Job into submission with the snickering rhetoric of humbling and impossible-to-answer questions? It can read that way, but Middleton is at his best here, showcasing something far better at work. Middleton proposes that "God is correcting Job's [and his friends] theology, his assumptions about what the world is like and the nature of God's relationship to that world."
How so? Many have argued that God's two speeches in these chapters showcase God's power and control over creation. In unpacking Job, it is as though many interpreters wish Job had stopped talking after chapter 1. God gives; God takes away; blessed be the name of the Lord. God is in control, so accept your fate and don't forget to worship.
Not so fast, says Middleton. The purpose of the speech is not to demonstrate God's authority over creation but God's DELIGHT in creation. Middleton writes that God "does this to expand Job's perspective about the nature of created reality and God's role in it. The speech reminds Job that this world extends beyond human knowledge and concerns. God not only describes an intricately awe-inspiring cosmos but points out dimensions of creation that are simply inaccessible to humans. To some extent, the view that God is decentering Job is valid, in that God opens up to Job vistas of reality that go beyond Job's anthropocentric concerns."
Job had thought that God didn't care about the created world. He was convinced that God must be a distant creator who created the world and then walked away without caring or concern for the creatures inhabiting it. God's speech indicates otherwise. As Middleton notes, God takes "an interest in various wild and weird animals and is attentive to their strange habits. God illustrates a curiosity [and delight] about his own creation."
At the same time, the speech showcases that while God delights in his creation, knows it intimately, and finds it all incredibly curious, this God is not one to micromanage the cosmos. Again, Middleton sums it up nicely. "God's care for creatures does not entail his precise control of them. God is involved with creatures but gives them significant freedom to be themselves, even to be their wild and quirky selves. This freedom God grants creatures includes their vulnerability so that the strength, dignity, and beauty of various wild animals are intertwined with the realities of struggle and death, from which God does not automatically protect them. God is implicitly correcting Job's assumptions of a tic-tac-toe consequence structure to the universe."
What Job and his friends had in common was an assumption that the cosmos operated on a system of action=consequence. For Job, he had done no wrong action; therefore, to experience suffering was unjust. His consequence made no sense, so he wanted his case heard in God's court. On the other hand, the friends see Job's suffering as the consequence of some unnamed wrong action. God's whirlwind speech scrambles the equation. As Terence Fretheimn explains, "For all the world's order and coherence, it doesn't run like a machine; a certain randomness, ambiguity, unpredictability, and play characterize its complex life."
The speech is powerful and enchanting, YET, according to Middleton, "it isn't clear that God's speech accomplishes the goal that God had for addressing Job." In trying to correct his theology, it seems as though God has rendered Job mute. He no longer has anything to say (40:4-5). This is where the central question of the book comes into play. "What should a wise or righteous person say (especially about/to God) in the face of terrible suffering?" If God only wants submissive silence and obedience from humans, then 40:5 would make a great place to end the book. God has spoken, and Job is silent. But Middleton contends that is the exact opposite of what God wants. "This makes it clear why there is a second speech from God. God was not satisfied with Job's abased silence. God desired a worthy dialogue partner."
Middleton's case for the Abraham/Isaac story is coming into even further focus. God doesn't want silence but human partners who will dialogue and engage. What God wants, it seems, are humans who are willing (like Jacob) to get into the ring and wrestle.
And so, God launches into a second speech, this time with God's desired outcome. Job speaks in 42:2-6 and understands what God had hoped he would. Middleton sums it up, "Job had questioned God's cosmic governance, assuming that God ruled unjustly, wreaking havoc in the world, with capricious power. But now he has come to understand the wonders that he was previously unaware of—namely, that God celebrates the wildness of creation, giving untameable creatures great freedom to be themselves. Job acknowledges that God does not micromanage the cosmos. Job has finally then understood the point of God's challenge, that the Creator actually wanted a response from him. It took a personal theophany, a manifestation of YHWH, to move him beyond his prior opinion of God."
But there is one final problem to be addressed. If all the above is true, why does Job repent as his final act? The NIV has Job ending his remarks to God: "Therefore, I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes." For Middleton, these words of Job have been grossly misunderstood and "most contemporary biblical scholars aren't satisfied with the rendering found in standard published translations."
Middleton's translation renders Job's final words this way: "Therefore I retract and am comforted about dust and ashes." Damn! That reads very differently!
Middleton takes Job's words to mean that he is either withdrawing his accusation of God's injustice or retracting his inappropriate, passive response to God after the first speech when he refuses to answer.
The dust and ashes part could mean that Job is saying he is consoled or comforted by the fact that he is simply dust and ashes. In other words, according to Middleton, "he has come to accept that the fragile nature of the human condition, with all its suffering, is not incompatible with the royal dignity and importance of humanity in God's sight, evident in God's willingness both to hear Job's complaint and to answer Him. Despite being dust and ashes, he has been heard and taken seriously by the Creator of the cosmos."
Speaking to Job's friends later, God tells them that "You have not spoken of me what is right, as my servant Job has." Job was right to complain. He was right to request an audience with God. Sure, he lacked the understanding that can only come with a theophany from God, but when confronted with immense suffering, he had spoken correctly. He hadn't cursed God. He hadn't tried to rationalize his suffering. God is not seeking quiet, silent obedience but a vigorous debate partner.
As Middleton puts it, "The Book of Job suggests that between the extremes of blessing God explicitly and cursing God, there is the viable option of an honest, forthright challenge to God in prayer, which God both wants and expects of those made in the divine image. God comes not to bury Job, but precisely to praise Him."
Abraham should have known this, as we shall see in the next post. But he missed it. And so, Job functions as the sequel to the Abraham/Isaac story. Job offers a second opinion on what it means to speak to and about God in the face of suffering. Job got it right. As we shall see, Abraham didn't.
One final little tidbit that I can't help but highlight. In the end, of course, Job receives back his material blessing. He once again knows wealth and is gifted ten children, seven sons and three daughters. What is strange and often overlooked, however, is that only the daughters are named in the text. Even more telling is that we are told Job gives his daughters an inheritance equal to his sons. This is almost unheard of in the Old Testament and the entire ancient near eastern world. "Why might this be important?" queries Middleton. "Has Job's experience of being ostracized and at the bottom of the social ladder, along with his protest about the injustice he has felt, profoundly impacted his ethical sensibilities and spilt over into advocacy on behalf of those suffering the injustice of patriarchy?" Great question. Almost 40 years into my journey with Scripture, there are plenty of surprises for those keen enough to keep looking.
Artwork: Out of the Whirlwind by Roger Wagner