Thomas J Parlette
“Old and Full of Days”
Job 42: 1-6, 10-17
10/24/21
In 1958, Archibald MacLeish wrote a play in verse called “J.B.” It would go on to a long and successful run on Broadway and was a staple on college stages through the 1960’s and 70’s. In 1959, “J.B.” won both the Pulitzer Prize for Drama and a Tony award for Best Play.
MacLeish was moved to write the play as a response to the horrors he saw during two world wars – including the Holocaust and the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. So turning to the Book of Job seemed like the thing to do.
In the forward to the acting edition of his play, MacLeish explained that turning to the Bible for a framework seemed sensible “when you are dealing with questions too large for which, nevertheless, will not leave you alone.”
“J.B.” tells the story of a 20th century American banker and millionaire whom God commands be stripped of his family and his wealth but who refuses to turn his back on God, saying in the face on each crushing loss, “the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.” MacLeish wondered how modern people could retain hope and keep living with all the suffering in the world and offered this, his play, as an answer. At the end, JB learns that there is no justice in the world, that happiness and suffering are not deserved, and that people can still choose to love each other and live.(1)
All those lessons are creeping into view as we wrap up the story of Job.
In last week’s passage, we heard God finally respond to Job’s questions and complaints out of the whirlwind. Turns out, God has some questions as well. “Where were you?” That is the refrain that was repeated over and over again. “Where were you? You just don’t understand who you are dealing with Job. I have knowledge, wisdom and power that are simply beyond your capacity to understand.”
That was last week. This week, we visit Job in the aftermath of the Divine Whirlwind. There is Job, his hair blown back – he’s cowering, face down with his hands over his head hiding from the whirlwind of God. When he’s sure it’s safe, when he’s sure he’s not going to be struck down in divine fury – Job peeks through his fingers and whispers in essence: “When I asked you to meet me in court, O Yahweh, I simply didn’t know what I was talking about. But things are clearer to me now. I no longer wish to challenge you; I only want to learn from your wisdom. I will be quiet while you answer my questions.”
And then, as the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) translates it, Job says, “I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes.”
That seems a bit harsh, doesn’t it – despise myself, or. as the King James Version renders it, “I abhor myself.” Seems too harsh, especially in our modern times when self-esteem is such a big deal. We would never want to hear someone say they despise or abhor themselves. And, truth be told, there are difficulties with the translation here. The NRSV holds to the long tradition of translating the Hebrew as “despise myself”, instead of the King James “abhor myself.” But there are other possibilities that are just as valid and just as faithful to the language. For instance, the editors of the New English Bible have chosen to say, “therefore I yield” instead of “therefore I despise myself.” In light of the previous verses that seem to reflect more of a sense of humility rather than self-loathing – maybe “I yield” is a better translation of Job’s mental state here in the aftermath of the Divine Whirlwind.
And then there’s the idea of repentance, which is never as easy concept to come to grips with. Repentance usually means to be sorry for sin, to turn around, take a new path, change your ways. So when we hear the word “repent” and we immediately think of changing our evil, sinful ways. But what if no sin has been committed? What if there is no evil way to change? We know that Job is righteous and good and faithful – why is he repenting?
And again, perhaps a fuller translation would be helpful. The Hebrew word here actually has a wide range of possible meanings, such as “to have pity”, “to have compassion”, or even “to comfort oneself”, are just a few possibilities. So one possible translation of the text could be… “Job admitted his mistake in attempting to challenge Yahweh.” That perhaps gives us a better sense of what Job’s repentance is all about here.
As Irma Zaleski has written in her book “The Way of Repentance”: When we repent, we give up our illusions, our compulsions, our self-centeredness as soon as we notice them; we cry for mercy and we always go on. We don’t expect any quick answers or ask for any revelations. We look only to Christ our Lord and follow him step by step…”(2)
I think that describes Job here after the whirlwind pretty well. He repents in that he gives up his illusions of God’s justice – and instead, Job cries for mercy. He stops expecting those quick, sure and certain answers that we’d like to have and learns to live with uncertainty, listening instead for the answers God wants to give. As we all know, living with uncertainties is never easy.
I like the story about noted mathematician and philosopher Willard Van Orman Quine, who used to type all his work on an old Remington typewriter that he had customized. He had removed the number 1, the exclamation point and the question mark – and replaced them with specialized mathematical symbols. Someone once asked him how he managed to write without using question marks and he answered, “Well, you see, I deal in certainties, not questions.”(3)
Certainties are something we’d all like to deal in. But Job is not a story about certainty – it’s a story about trust. It’s a story about trusting that God will continue to love us through any circumstance – as God continued to love Job right through his time of torment.
In Job, God gives us some good news and some bad news. The bad news is that we don’t get what we deserve. And the good news is the same – we don’t get what we deserve. God is at work in each and every situation to help us find meaning and purpose. In love and mercy, God sticks by us through the tragedies that are a part of this life.
From his face down position, Job whispers, “I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you. As Carl Jung once said, “Job caught a glimpse of the shadow of God.”(4) As a result of his whirlwind encounter, Job experiences God in a completely new way – as the mysterious, all-powerful, unknowable, Creator of the Universe, but also as a merciful God who would stoop to lift us up and stand by us in the most troubling times.
Perhaps the apostle Paul had Job in mind when he wrote his spontaneous burst of praise in Romans:
“O the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgements and how inscrutable his ways! For who had known the mind of the Lord, or who has been his counselor? For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen.” This is one of the texts that gave birth to the theological idea of doxology, to God be the glory.
In a well-known sermon called “Doxology”, Fred Craddock preached on those words from Romans. He writes: In the fall of the year, even after the days grow short and the air crisp, I still go out on the patio alone at the close of the day. I sit there remembering, trying to understand the painful distance between the day as I planned it and the day as it had been. The growing darkness seeped into my mind and heart and I was as the night. Looking back on it, I know now that it was that evening on which the Idea came to me.” It was an idea he called, for lack of a better name – Doxology.
Doxology began to follow Craddock throughout his days. Doxology joined the family at the dinner table, as the question was asked, “What was the worst thing that happened today?”
“The school bell rang at 8:30.”
Well, what was the best thing that happened?
“It rang again at 3:30.”
The family agreed, Doxology belonged at the family dinner table. They even took Doxology along to the beach on vacation. No doubt about it – Doxology was good company.
Doxology even joined Craddock on routine errands around town. Together they laughed with children, talked to the banker and enjoyed the bustle of life. But when it was time to stop at the hospital to visit Betty, who was dying from cancer – well, Craddock felt it was inappropriate to take something as joyous as Doxology along. Doxology insisted – but Craddock locked him in the car and went on his own. After an awkward visit and a quick prayer, Craddock slunk back to the car.
Doxology asked, “Should I have been there?”
“Yes,” said Craddock. “I’m sorry – I didn’t understand.”
Doxology is the simple idea that God deserves all the glory and praise. As Paul said, “For from him and through him and to him are all things. To God be glory forever.” There is never any situation in life where our Doxology – our words of appreciation and wonder at the awesome being of our Creator – is inappropriate. As Craddock says near the end of his sermon, “If we ever lose our Doxology we might as well be dead.”(5)
I think Job re-discovered his own Doxology at the end of his days. He lived through his sufferings and the advice to curse God and die. He lived through his searching and questioning God’s presence. He lived through his anger and bitter complaints. He even survived the whirlwind of God’s response. He lived through it all to discover that God had stood by him the whole time – offering not justice, but something even better. Infinite mercy. Or as J.B.’s wife Sarah says in MacLeish’s play: “You wanted justice and there was none – only love.”
There are a lot of satisfying endings in the Bible. Some of my favorites are the story of Moses. God shows Moses the Promised land right before his death. He dies at the Lord’s command and only God knows where he is buried. And the scripture tells us, “Never since has there arisen a prophet in Israel like Moses, whom the Lord knew, face to face.” Great ending.
Or there’s Elijah, when the chariots and horses of fire descend and a whirlwind lifts him up to heaven. And of course, there is Jesus, ascending through the clouds from Bethany on the Mount of Olives. All satisfying endings.
But I have to say, the ending of Job is probably my favorite. As the text says, the Lord blessed the latter days of Job more than his beginning. His fortunes restored, his life rebuilt, Job sits on his front porch, sometime in the autumn of his life, rocking back and forth in his favorite rocking chair, watching the seasons change. Watching his beautiful, successful daughters, now with kids of their own, his grandchildren, running around the front yard. And after Job lived 140 years, he died, old and full of days. He wanted justice, but instead found only love and infinite mercy.
A satisfying ending to the story of Job.
May we all be so blessed.
May God be praised. Amen.
1. The Gale Group, A Study Guide for Archibald MacLeish’s “J.B.”, The Gale Group, 2002, p. 1-2.
2. Homileticsonline, retrieved 9/20/21.
3. Ibid.
4. Ibid.
5. Fred Craddock, As One Without Authority, Abingdon Press, 1971, p. 163-168.
