No matter how studied, you will eventually run out of answers.
BEARING THE IMAGE of God has its perks.
We are capable of creativity, one of the Almighty's key traits. In the history of humanity, God first appears as creator, materializing the universe with mere words. When you read a novel, watch a thrilling film, or explore some architectural marvel, you enjoy the product of creativity.
Language is another differentiator among created beings. You're reading a message which is an encoding from your past (my present) containing my thoughts. As you read these words, your mind decodes them to derive meaning. It's an incredible transaction and a talent we share with our creator.
A third perk (among others) is our ability to reason and think in the abstract. God has granted us the gift of intellect. We can consider alternate realities, we can reverse engineer, and we can understand cause and effect.
And yet, as smart as we may think we have become, this third perk can also manifest as a curse.
No matter how studied or rational or wise we may be, our intellect has limits. Although we share this ability to understand complex matters, this "mind", with God, he is infinite, and we are finite. We are like grade schoolers who balk at the complexity of long division while God not only understands quantum mechanics, but also created the system from which quantum mechanics originates.
We have a germ of intellect, and as a result know answers and explanations exist for every phenomenon—whether or not we understand them. Christians diligently study the Scriptures, and theologians pen commentaries and systematic theologies to explain every aspect of reality. Apologists synthesize nature, history, and logic to answer the deepest philosophical questions humanity can muster.
We can study every textbook and even memorize the Bible and feel pretty good about life. But inevitably a day comes when the answers run dry. Adversity, whether in the form of physical pain or emotional anguish, has the tendency to cause one to question everything he thought he knew. Reading in the Bible that God is just is one thing. Stage IV cancer is another. Yes, I can give you a perfectly cogent, Scripture-based rationale for cancer, but I can't specifically explain yours. And even if I could, would it lessen the pain?
This is where Job stands in the 13th chapter of his book. He's lost just about everything that matters to him, and those who he hasn't lost—his wife and friends—seem to be against him. Zophar even goes as far to say that Job hasn't received enough punishment! And if being suddenly poor, bereaved of his children, and friendless was enough, his health has deteriorated to the point of constant pain.
Job's friends recite wisdom and offer explanations for his predicament. But Job has had enough of their explaining. In defense he says, "What you know, I also know; I am not inferior to you" (Job 13:2), nearly an exact repetition of what he said in Job 12:3.
But what is Job really saying here?
He's telling them he already knows all of the apologetic and theological answers they hurl his way. He knows them, but they don't help. They don't answer the central questions of injustice, of randomness, and of his suffering. Sure, one can talk about suffering in a general, aggregated, sense. But none of these answers explain Job's specific situation. Who in history lost his wealth, health, and children in a matter of days?
At this moment, Job has run out of answers.
Maybe you, too, have run out of answers. How should you respond? How can you find strength in the depths of despair?
Job's example provides some guidance. First, he admitted he didn't have the answers. His desperation stemmed largely from the fact that he did not know why his life was in turmoil. He told his friends, "What you know, I also know; I am not inferior to you" (13:2). He had the knowledge, but human knowledge was insufficient to alleviate his pain or even to explain his predicament.
Second, he petitioned God: "But I would speak to the Almighty. I desire to argue my case with God" (13:3). He knew there was an answer, and he knew God had the answer, so he pleaded for an audience with the creator.
Third, Job maintained hope that God would eventually answer his prayer. He said to his friends, "Though he slay me, I will hope in him" (13:15). Despite his disillusionment and grief, Job knew the Almighty could provide an explanation.
While I don't claim the path will be easy, fast, or enjoyable, we can follow a similar trek. Admitting we don't have all of the answers is scary, but when tethered to the next two steps, doing so can be liberating and is a pathway to peace.
Petitioning God is in itself an expression of faith because by asking, we acknowledge his ability to answer. Would you ask if you didn't believe he has the answer? It is important to abide in him through difficult times. Be honest about your pain and disappointment, and ask for answers.
Last is probably the most difficult, but also the most important. We must follow Job's example and maintain hope that answers will come eventually. Waiting on God, especially in the midst of grief, can seem unbearable. But we know that as an omniscient being, God knows the right timing. The other consideration here is our cognitive limitations. Perhaps, at this time, we are simply incapable of understanding the myriad variables involved in our situations.
If you're reading ahead, you might be shocked to know that while God responds verbally to Job, he never directly answers his questions. Why not? Because Job could not fathom the complete picture. Instead, God answers Job like this: "Can you bind the chains of the Pleiades or loose the cords of Orion?" (Job 38:31). We can't even reach the stars, and if we could, we wouldn't survive the encounter. God, on the other hand, created the celestial bodies and can manipulate them at will.
And guess what? Scripture tells us Job was completely satisfied with God's response. How could this be? Job lost nearly everything! Didn't he require answers?
Yes, Job did want an explanation for his suffering. But behind all of these questions lay a deeper, more important query. Christian author Philip Yancey wrote that "God spectacularly answered Job's biggest question: Is anybody out there? Once Job caught sight of the unseen world, all his urgent questions faded away."[1]
When faced with God's glory, nothing else seems to matter. God is so good, so perfect and holy, that his mere presence is restorative. Job was okay with not having all of the answers because he was confronted with the creator and sustainer of all things.
Pursuing answers is not a bad thing. But what we need more in times of anguish is God's presence—to know that, yes, someone is out there, someone omnipotent, omniscient, and glorious. God is so vast and infinite that time and space do not contain him. He exists outside of the constructs of minutes and seconds, of feet and inches. He is the alpha and omega—the beginning and the end all at the same time. He is the "I am"; God simply is. He has no beginning or cause, no antecedent.
When we experience God's presence and feel his nearness, nothing else matters. Pain and grief wash away in the ocean of his being because God is the essence of love and goodness.
So while answers are nice, instead seek his presence. Beg for it. Be jealous for his nearness.
If you enjoyed this article, you might like my free Old Testament reading guide, How to Read through the Old Testament without Getting Lost or Dozing Off: A 90-Day Reading Guide with Notes. This guide is a 90-day chronological survey of the entire Old Testament, and a guide I still use personally.
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Notes
1. Philip Yancy, Disappointment with God: Three Questions No One Asks Aloud (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2015), 269, Kindle.
Thank you for sharing your wisdom with us and this one will really help a great-nephew who lost his wife to cancer, leaving behind 3 young children also.
ReplyDeleteSo sorry for the loss. I'm praying for peace in your great-nephew's situation.
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