walk from the seashore, our study groups reflected on the very real pain that people experience. We pondered the text of Job and also the textbook of our lives seeking insight into God’s presence in times of pain and failure. Every member of the groups had faced serious illness, was experiencing diminishments of the aging process, or lived with the loss of loved ones. I am grateful to my Sunday and Tuesday morning groups for their commitment, insight, and contribution to this text. Although this text emerged from my reflections and reflects my vision of Job and the challenges of suffering, it was profoundly shaped by our weekly conversations.
I am grateful to the members of South Congregational Church, the Job study groups, and persons over the past thirty five years who have come to me with questions and struggles. Their experiences inspired me to explore the problem of evil and the reality of suffering through the lens of the Book of Job. They also helped me discover healthy and supportive ways to respond to my own and my congregants’ suffering. Pastors and helpful friends, as the text of Job reveals, can do much harm to people who suffer, especially when they blame the victim, minimize peoples’ pain, or provide superficial solutions.
I dedicate this text to my mother-in-law Maxine Gould, who faced her own death this year with grace and equanimity, to my son Matt, a cancer survivor, and all my dear companions facing life-threatening illness. My prayer is that every reader experiences a sense of divine companionship and inspiration amid the inevitable pain and loss that comes with the tragic beauty of human life.
The Season of Pentecost 2014
Theology For Those Who Suffer
Mary called me in a state of shock.1 We had been friends since high school, and because she knew I was a pastor, she often confided in me during difficult times. “I don’t know how to say this, and almost can’t get the words out, but I just got the results of the scan. I have incurable cancer and may have less than a year to live. How can this be happening to me? I’m finally happy with my professional life and just got engaged, and my kids still need a mother!” Several months later, I received the news of Mary’s death.
Alex was visibly upset when he came to my study. His world had fallen apart with virtually no warning. In the course of a week, his wife told him that she wanted a divorce and he received word that his position would be eliminated. He shared his disbelief and frustration at this unexpected and undeserved turn of events. “I’ve done everything the way I was taught. I was a faithful husband, good breadwinner, and caring father. I devoted thirty years to the company and only missed two day’s work. I went beyond the call of duty, and now it’s all falling apart. All my life, I’ve been told that if you work hard and support your family, everything will be alright. And, now this! Am I being punished for something I don’t know? What’s God trying to tell me? Did I do something wrong?”
Susan had been a dedicated congregant at a local Pentecostal church. For most of her adult life, she believed that God rewarded the righteous and punished sinners in this lifetime and the next. She took seriously the words of her pastor and the televangelists, whose sermons counseled that if you plant a seed of faith by giving generously to your church and their television ministries, God will bless you with good health, financial prosperity, and a happy home life. But, now, as she surveyed her life, she saw nothing but chaos: financial insecurity and a possible home foreclosure, kids doing drugs, and constant physical pain from arthritis. Her faith was also in chaos. “I did the right things. I followed God’s way and gave to the church above and beyond our financial ability. I trusted that God would bless us. Is God punishing me? Or, is God testing my faith? Is this all just a hoax to fill the collection plates and build a television empire? Right now, I don’t know what to believe. Was I just a sucker, the victim of some kind of spiritual pyramid scheme? Was the promise of prosperity a hoax? I don’t know if I can believe in God anymore!”
As I write these words, people in nearby Boston are remembering last year’s Boston Marathon bombings, a mudslide recently leveled a town in the Pacific Northwest, a truck crossed a divider killing teenagers on a college tour, a plane has been lost at sea, and another school child has been the victim of gun violence. Each of these victims, and their families, began their day thinking they were safe and believing that life would go on without any significant interruptions. Without warning and for no apparent reason, life collapsed for them and their loved ones. The world is a risky place, whether as a result human decision-making, acts of violence and corporate decision-making, mechanical failures, and natural catastrophes, often inaccurately described as “acts of God.” Moreover, sometimes “stuff happens,” and life appears to be random in its bestowal of blessing and misfortune. At such moments, we look for a reason why some die and others flourish; why some rise to the top and others fail; why the tornado struck here and not down the road; or why an innocent child must suffer pain and disability, while another child runs happily home from school.
For many people, even those who would describe themselves as agnostics, the question of God emerges at times of unanticipated and apparently unwarranted encounters with death and destruction. “God, why did you do this to me? What good can come from punishing my child with a devastating illness? Do you care at all about the pain we feel or are we pawns in some sort of cosmic chess game?”
Philosopher Alfred North Whitehead once stated that philosophy could be seen as a series of footnotes to Plato, who raised most of the important philosophical questions in Western thought. The same could be said for Job in terms of the problem of evil, or theodicy, and our responses to the sufferings of ourselves and others. In a manner unexcelled in insight for over twenty five hundred years, the book of Job raises questions about the origin and reality of suffering, starkly and without denial. The author of Job asserts without equivocation that suffering is real and that personal and corporate disaster can strike at any time, without notice, and turn our theological and spiritual worlds upside down. Reading the book of Job is not for the faint-hearted or those who want easy answers to life’s greatest questions.
Readers of Job may discover that there are no clear answers to the origin and reality of suffering. Still, the author of Job invites all of us to live in solidarity with those who suffer. The book of Job reminds us that regardless of our piety, economic, or spiritual achievements, no one is immune from the sufferings of body, mind, and spirit felt by a man named Job.
Theology Where the Pain Is
It has been said that theology begins in the experience of suffering and disappointment. If this description of the origins of theology is accurate, then Job is one of the greatest theological texts. The book of Job is not theology written from the armchair and delivered to a self-satisfied and comfortable audience, but theology that emerges from the vantage point of excruciating and undeserved pain. Job is practical and pastoral in nature. It is written at the place where the rubber meets the road; Job makes his complaint from the perspective of an ash heap after having lost everything that characterized his once enviable life - wealth, social position, family, and personal health. Job even has lost his faith in the God of his religious tradition, whom he and his friends believed rewarded the righteous, punished evil doers, and insured an orderly and predictable universe. Job believes in God, but he is now uncertain about God’s nature and attitude toward humankind.
The book of Job is our story. Job’s wisdom enlightens our experiences in the emergency room terrified by chest pains and shortness of breath; in the Alzheimer’s wing grieving when a beloved companion no longer recognizes us and treats another patient as if he or she were their spouse; at our child’s evaluation for autism; and at the bedside and graveside of a parent or companion. Job’s wisdom touches the grief and despair of parents of children who have gone missing or been kidnapped by terrorist groups. Job speaks to those whose lives have been turned upside down by earthquake, hurricane, flood, and cyclone.
The book of Job invites us to claim our identity as theologians. Job shouts out to us, “You are a theologian” because we have experienced the pain of the world and are trying to make sense of it. Job shouts to us: “Don’t let the word ‘theology’ put you off. By whatever word, we strive to make sense of the senseless and meaning of the meaningless.” We become theologians the moment we begin to ask hard questions about life and the One who creates the universe and gives birth to each moment of experience. Theology asks questions of life, death, meaning, human