Rabbi Harold Kushner once sought to answer the question, Why
Do Bad Things Happen to Good People? Properly this is called the problem of
Theodicy: if God is good why is there evil and suffering? To become a Christian
through the rite of Holy Baptism, we are called to “renounce the evil powers in
this world which corrupt and destroy the creatures of God.” In particular, both
the Church and the nation have been recently and increasingly focused on the
problems of sexual violence against women and children. All attempts to sweep
such concerns under the rug have been proven futile. The curtain has been
pulled back. Corrupting and destructive evil is real.
And if there was any thought that once our current political
dilemma is “resolved” this might all go away, the one and only Nobel Prize that
is conferred by the Norwegian Nobel Committee, The Peace Prize, was awarded to
two individuals who have devoted their lives “for being symbols in the fight to
end the use of sexual violence as a weapon of war and armed conflict.” The
Committee goes on to say, “that while wartime sexual assault and the #MeToo
movement in general are significantly different, their goals share key
elements: They both aim to acknowledge the abuses of women, eliminate the
victim shaming and support women who speak out about their sexual assaults.”
The 2018 Nobel Peace Prize has been awarded to Dr. Denis
Mukwege, a Congolese gynecologist, who has treated victims of sexual violence
in the Democratic Republic of the Congo for most of his adult life, founding
the Panzi Hospital, which supports survivors of sexual assault. Sharing the
Prize is Nadia Murad, a Yazidi survivor of rape and captivity by ISIS. She is a
member of the Yazidi minority in northern Iraq and was taken captive by ISIS
members who had launched an attack on her small village. She was held as a sex
slave for three months before escaping from her captors. In 2016, she was named
the U.N.'s first Goodwill Ambassador for the Dignity of Survivors of Human
Trafficking. It is believed that some 3,000 Yazidi women and girls remain
enslaved. As long as they are enslaved, ISIS has not been defeated. Corrupting
and destructive evil remains real.
One might say that God is trying to keep our attention on
the problems of sexual violence against women and children. Against this
backdrop, we begin a cycle of readings from the Book of Job: “There was once a
man in the land of Uz whose name was Job. That man was blameless and upright,
one who feared God and turned away from evil.” Job is offered to us, like Dr.
Mukwege and Ms. Murad, as one who has “renounced the evil powers in this world
which corrupt and destroy the creatures of God.”
In this nearly 3,000 year old fable, Job’s faith in God is
challenged by Satan - a Hebrew word
meaning “adversary,” or “accuser,” not the Devil of the New Testament. Job has
a flourishing family, much cattle, bountiful crops and life is good. Job thanks
God for all good gifts that surround him. Satan suggests that if Job is to lose
everything his faith and love of God will vanish and he will curse God. Suggesting
that Job serves God because it is profitable.
God, it turns out, has faith in Job and says, “Very well, he
is in your power, but spare his life.” Satan strips Job of everything he has,
and goes so far as to cover his body with sores. Then his wife says to him, “Do
you still persist in your integrity? Curse God, and die.” But he says to her, “…Shall
we receive the good at the hand of God, and not receive the bad?” In all this,
we are told, Job did not curse God.
What follows are something like 40 chapters of theological
attempts to explain or answer the problem of suffering and evil in the world.
Much of it features three friends of Job and a fourth, Elihu, who offer all the
usual bromides: You must have done something wrong. You brought this on
yourself somehow. God doesn’t give you more than you can handle. Job swings
between faith and despair, cursing the day he was born, and finally ends with a
flourish demanding that God declare why this has happened to him. Job has no
patience. There is no such thing as “the patience of Job.” Job demands that God
stand trial.
The three friends give up, Elihu summarizes their efforts,
stating that Job has risen for the defense of self, not God. And then it
happens. The Lord answers Job out of the whirlwind. “Who is this that darkens counsel by words
without knowledge? Gird up your loins for I will question you, and you shall
declare to me!” Then comes what William Safire once described as, “the longest
and most beautifully poetic speech attributed directly to God in scripture.” The
foundation of God’s defense is, “Where were you when I was creating this
universe in the first place? If you have so many good ideas you should have
been there to help out!” The idea being
that God, suggests Safire, is busy bringing light to darkness, imposing
physical order on chaos, and leaves his human creations free to work out moral
justice on their own. In fact, in Genesis God pretty much leaves the
stewardship of creation entirely up to us. [New York Times, January 10, 2005]
Job is humbled. “I have uttered what I did not understand,
things too wonderful for me, which I did not know. I despise myself, and repent
in dust and ashes.” Yet, in telling his story, in testifying to friends, in
demanding an explanation from God, and through sheer resilience, Job realizes
that he has been graced by the living presence of God. His tirade has caused
God to appear, demonstrating, much as Jesus does on the cross, that those who
suffer are never alone. Job is satisfied, not so much by the content of God’s
answer as by contact with God himself. Emmanuel. God with us. Us. All of us.
That is, the answer to the problem of evil is not to be
found in the arguments of Job’s friends, or even God’s defense. The answer, if
you will, is a response. Rabbi Kushner suggests, “A religious response to
tragedy need not be solely about God. It
can be about how the sufferer responds, whether with acceptance, with rage, or
with a new understanding of how life works.
It can be about how others respond to his or her pain, with pious
explanations or with hugs and shared tears.” Like Job, we can repudiate past
accusations, doubts, and even anger and know that we are not alone, living this
life in communion with a God who is with us in our sufferings. And listening to
and honoring other’s stories of suffering and survival is what heals. All of us.
Wesley Morriston in his essaay, God’s Answer To Job, reminds us of a story that The Hasidic
teacher, Rabbi Bunam, tells: ‘A man should carry two stones in his pocket. On
one should be inscribed, "I am but dust and ashes." On the other,
"For my sake was the world created. "And he should use each stone as
he needs it. The experience of the Whirlwind has taught Job to use the first
stone. But what we need, and what the book of Job tries, with only partial
success, to teach us, is how to use them both together.’ [Religious Studies 32,
Oxford Univeriy Press: 1996]
Knowledge is to know the difference and when to use them. As
we listen to others, or tell our own stories, we need to learn the difference.
Job held to his faith in God. God had faith in Job. God has faith in us. God is
with us in the suffering. To be continued.
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