Old Testament Lesson: Job 23:1-9, 16-17

I have shared that the Book of Job is a difficult book to interpret, but it is also a difficult book to translate.

Take the last two verses as an example. As Mark Throntveit shares, “The NRSV (New Revised Standard Version) has Job despair that since he cannot find God, he might as well give up and be absorbed into the murky realm of oblivion. ‘If only I could vanish in darkness, and thick  darkness would cover my face.’ The NIV (New International Version), however, envisions a defiant, feisty Job, more intent than ever to press his case ‘Yet I am not silenced by the darkness, by the think darkness that covers my face.’”

If you were to read this passage, what emotion would you inflect? Do you think that Job is giving up, or just getting going?

Psalm:

Psalm 22:1-15

It is difficult to separate this Psalm from its place in our Good Friday liturgy. The cries of the Psalmist, the fear of abandonment from God are the same words that Jesus shares on the cross before his death (at least in Matthew and Mark’s account).

That context seems to fit perfectly between our Job section and the passage from Hebrews. There is very little comfort in the cries of one abandoned by God, but perhaps there is great comfort in the knowledge that Jesus himself may have felt that same estrangement…and that God was ultimately proven to be faithful and present by Christ’s resurrection…

Epistle: Hebrews 4:12-16

Each of our first three readings seem to reinforce one another.

Job feels abandoned. The Psalmist feels abandoned. The author of Hebrews reminds us that Jesus faced death and may have equally felt abandoned by God.

BUT!

But in Christ’s Passion, those who follow Christ no longer need to feel abandoned. In Christ’s passion, the whole world was invited to God’s presence (where we might approach the throne of God!)

For the author of Hebrews, THAT is the significance of Jesus—that through Christ, we have direct access to God. We may feel alone, but in Christ, God is always with us.

Gospel:

Mark 10:17-31

The story of the rich young ruler is an easy story to misinterpret.

Jesus never condemns the wealth that the young man has accumulated. It is helpful to read Jesus caution about the rich entering the kingdom in heaven in the context of Jesus speaking about accepting the kingdom as a child would.

The spiritual problem that wealth creates is an illusion of self-sufficiency. What Jesus is trying to cultivate in his followers is a reliance upon God’s grace. Wealth or material possessions don’t separate us from God, merely they condition us into believing that we don’t need any other help and support.

This is a non-academic, preaching copy of my manuscript. Please read with grace and patience.

Proper 23

Year B

St. Stephen’s, Orinda

Great things, Thou hast done, O Lord, my God. I would name them and proclaim them, but they are more than I can tell. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen.

Last week, we began a four-week series preaching on the Book of Job. That series continues today, but with a very large asterisk. For most of my sermon, I would like to don a set of blinders to the broader context of Job’s story. No wager, no debates between Job and his friends…no anything, really.

Nothing.

“Oh, that I knew where I might find him, that I might come even to his dwelling! "If I go forward, he is not there; or backward, I cannot perceive him; on the left he hides, and I cannot behold him; I turn to the right, but I cannot see him. God has made my heart faint; the Almighty has terrified me.”

Like I said…this morning’s sermon is about nothing. This is a sermon about the aching silence of wanting, hoping, even expecting to hear God’s voice in the moments of our distress.

In the words of the Psalmist, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? and are so far from my cry and from the words of my distress? O my God, I cry in the daytime, but you do not answer; by night as well, but I find no rest.”

Put aside, for a moment, Job’s hubris and his demands to confront God with the evidence of God’s dereliction of duty…and you are left with a portrait of a deeply distraught figure, confused by the apparent absence of God in the midst of this despair. Where is God? Why won’t God answer my questions? Is God even listening to my prayers?

These aren’t the questions of an atheist or an agnostic. These questions do not consider whether or not God exists; instead these questions confound us because even asking them is admitting the traumatizing indifference God’s silence might inflict upon us.

Why can’t I hear God’s voice? Why is this happening? Why…why?

I wonder…how many of us have asked these same questions? How many of us have been either confused or confounded by an inability to hear God’s voice or feel God’s presence in our life?

I may not have answers…but I have four stories that might help.

Of all things, Job searching for God reminds me of a couple that has been married for decades. The wife is convinced that her husband is losing his hearing. The wife has to keep raising her voice to get her husband’s attention. And after months and months of prodding, her husband finally goes to the audiologist. He takes every test, and passes every one. “You can hear perfectly, you just aren’t listening.”

Job is absolutely restless. He is a perpetual motion machine, constantly complaining about God’s performance as the administrator of justice within the universe. “I can’t find God, I can’t find God, I can’t hear God, I can’t hear God.” No kidding!

When we complain that we can’t hear God’s voice, how often do we admit that we haven’t been listening. Have we made the time to create stillness and silence? Sometimes, we can’t hear God, sometimes we aren’t listening for God.

And yet, there have been times when we have cultivated silence and have been straining…honestly straining to hear God’s voice or feel God’s presence…but still we hear nothing. We want a clear sign that God can at least hear our calls of distress, give us a sign of something we should do in this moment. These are the times in our lives when we are searching for God, straining to hear God’s voice…and yet I worry that if we are not careful, we might be presumptuous about what God’s voice might sound like.

The second story is one about a man who lived by the river. He heard a radio report that the river was going to rush up and flood the town, and that the all the residents should evacuate their homes. But the man said, "I'm religious. I pray. God loves me. God will save me." The waters rose up. A guy in a rowboat came along and he shouted, "Hey, hey you, you in there. The town is flooding. Let me take you to safety." But the man shouted back, "I'm religious. I pray. God loves me. God will save me." A helicopter was hovering overhead and a guy with a megaphone shouted, "Hey you, you down there. The town is flooding. Let me drop this ladder and I'll take you to safety." But the man shouted back that he was religious, that he prayed, that God loved him and that God will take him to safety. Well... the man drowned. And standing at the gates of St. Peter he demanded an audience with God. "Lord," he said, "I'm a religious man, I pray, I thought you loved me. Why did this happen?" God said, "I sent you a radio report, a helicopter and a guy in a rowboat. What the hell are you doing here?"

In my life, I have been disappointed by God’s silence. I have sat here in this very sanctuary, waiting for answers. And none came. But I look back…and no, there wasn’t a booming voice from the clouds or a moment of absolute resolve and conviction of what I should do next. But looking back on that Almighty silence, I do hear the voices of my friends who gave me good advice. Songs that made me forget my worries and give me a sense of peace. God uses a thousand different voices…we have to listen for what modulation God might be employing in our lives.

But what if the silence remains. What if we don’t hear God speaking through some unexpected voice? It feels like double punishment. We are dealing with this big heavy thing, and we want nothing more than the assurance of God’s continued presence in our life…and we still can’t hear. What do we do then?

The answer is simple: We hope.

Not in a Pollyanna-ish naive way, but with the utmost confidence that we are not alone. Job, for all his complaining about searching for God, somehow knows that he is not alone. Job appeals to an unknown figure who nevertheless knows him. “As for me, I know that my Redeemer lives and that at the last he will stand upon the earth. After my awaking, he will raise me up; and in my body I shall see God. I myself shall see, and my eyes behold him who is my friend and not a stranger.”

Job spoke of an unknown redeemer, a figure without focus—yet the author of Hebrews sees this figure clearly in Jesus. “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin.”

The last two stories that helps us understand God’s apparent silence is the cross. Jesus, the son of God also felt this abandonment. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?and are so far from my cry and from the words of my distress?” The author of Hebrews is correct…we have the shared experience of the profound disappointment and confusion of God’s silence. Christ surely can sympathize with us in these moments of isolation.

Ring Story.

We hope—we trust in the sure and certain knowledge that we are not alone. We may not hear God’s voice, or feel God’s presence, but we still know God is there. Working all things for good. Working in ways that we can not understand or even perceive, but we know God is.