During Lent 2016, the people of The First U.P. Church of Crafton Heights looked at some of the giant questions raised in the ancient book of Job. When Easter Sunday rolled around, we finished our consideration in a two-part sermon series. Both of these messages are rooted in the fact that our community has a number of people for whom this Lent was filled with significant loss and grief. That drove me, as a preacher, to explore aspects of our Holy Day that were congruent with themes of suffering, loss, and pain that ring forth from Job. Our texts for the early service, shared below, were Job 40:6-14 (with a reference to our Maundy Thursday reading of Job 38) and Mark 16:1-8.
I like to think of myself as a peaceful person. I’m a lover, not a fighter, as they say.
And yet, as I prepared for this morning’s message, I found myself thinking about the last time that I got punched in the mouth. I mean, really socked in the kisser. Not a “dope slap”, not a pretend smack – an honest to goodness haymaker that landed square on this jaw.
It happened during a Bible study of which I was the leader. I made a comment, and my friend Frank took a different approach. Next to Frank was Jason, who thought that he needed to come to my defense, and so he told Frank that he was wrong. Frank took exception to that and called Jason a heretic, which got Jason’s blood boiling. They got louder and louder and the next thing I knew they had squared off and were ready to go at it. I rose, seeking to bring order to the situation, just as Jason was rearing back to plant one on Frank’s nose. Frank ducked, and I wound up with a bloody lip. At a Bible study.
You see, I hadn’t said anything for about five minutes – this was a conflict that was intensified because these guys were arguing about what I said, what I would say, how I might say it, and so on.
We’ve spent the past six weeks immersed in the ancient book of Job. If you’ve missed it, most of that work is really people speaking about God. In fact, the person who speaks most directly to God in much of the book is, well, Satan. Ha-Satan, the Accuser. After he and God have a bit of a dialogue at the beginning of the book, it’s mostly a group of men lining up to say what they think God might say if God could get a word in edgewise, which apparently he can’t because the rest of you knuckleheads keep yammering on and on and on.
The longer that Job and Bildad and Eliphaz and Zophar and Elihu talk, the more you get the sense that somebody’s going to blow a gasket sooner or later. And finally, it happens.
And, as it turns out, it’s God’s gasket that gets blown. In four brief chapters at the end of Job, God speaks. We heard the beginning of that speech in Job 38 on Thursday night, and I’ll remind you of it now.
Job’s friend Elihu has been rambling for a couple of chapters, telling Job and anyone else who will listen the kinds of things that God would say if he was the kind of God who liked to talk, and then we come to this:
“Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind…Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?”
Uh-oh. He’s talking to Job, not to Elihu or anyone else. And he doesn’t seem happy. And although the text reads, “the Lord answered Job…”, how does he do it? By asking a question! Where were you?
Do you remember that I’ve been asking you to pay attention to the ways that the language of Job echoes that of the creation? Think back to Genesis. What is the first question that God asks the humans? God has created the garden, created the animals and birds and so on, and has created male and female…and those people disregard God, and they hide from God…
And in Genesis chapter three we have a description of God wandering through the Garden of Eden at the dawn of creation, and God is asking a question… Where are you?
It seems unmistakable to me that God is demonstrating to Job, his friends, and the rest of us that when it comes to righteousness and power and authority and integrity, the high ground belongs to God. It is we who have left him, not the other way around.
This question is followed by a stunning series of images in which God points out in amazing detail God’s ongoing care for, power over, and investment in the creation. He says quite plainly that God moves in ways that Job and his dimwit friends cannot begin to appreciate or understand.
Turning ahead to our New Testament reading, we find it to be a more familiar and frankly a more Easter-y reading from the book of Mark. My sense is that some of you were surprised to come in here on Easter morning and hear the book of Job. But empty tombs and angels? Well, that’s what you signed up for, right?
Let me invite you to consider with me the story of Mark in light of the message of Job, because as I have done so this week, I’ve been struck by a couple of things.
I noticed this morning that the first Easter starts off with a question. In Genesis and in Job, the question is “Where are you”, and it’s directed at the humans. In Mark, really, there are nothing but questions: How will we move the stone? Where did his body go? What’s up with this angel? What are we going to tell Peter and the rest of them because they’ll never believe this!?
These followers come, simply wanting to find their dead Jesus where they had left him, and they cannot… because he is on the move ahead of them. He will meet them, the angel says, in Galilee. Whereas in the stories from Creation and in Job, humanity is not where the Lord expects us to be, here in Mark God is not where the disciples expect him to be.
Which leads to another interesting image: in Job we read twice that God spoke “from the whirlwind”. The Hebrew word there is ca’ar, and it refers to a powerful storm – very much like a tornado – an event with the power to uproot, tear down, and re-arrange.
Note, beloved, that the ca’ar is the context in which God chooses to speak to Job. For more than 35 chapters people have been trying to get God to open up, and finally he does… from the whirlwind.
And while the word “whirlwind” does not appear in the New Testament, surely the events of Holy Week qualify as that kind of a tempest. From the Triumphant Entry to the cleansing of the Temple to the Last Supper and the arrest, betrayal, denials, and finally death of the Lord… we have seen a horrible, horrible storm.
And this morning, the women approach the tomb in darkness and fear and in anxiety – they are worried about all kinds of things, and then the one thing that they think they can count on – the fact that Jesus’s body is where they left it – is no longer true. That’s how the Gospel of Mark ends – there is no bodily appearance, there is no great answer… just a lot of questions, pain, and confusion. They are confronted by the story of the resurrection and they leave the tomb full of fear and anxiety – yet they have heard the word of God.
The only thing that I can figure, the only line that I can draw here, is that in Job and in Mark, God speaks, and acts, and moves in the midst of a whirlwind. God is accessible, in these instances at any rate, in times of pain, fear, grief, and depression. God is in the storm.
And yet when I say that I need to find time to communicate with God, what do I do? I head out “into nature”. I go fishing or boating. I see right there how God shows up in Job and in Mark, but I prefer my meetings with God to be calm and serene, thank you very much…
“Hey, Dave, how are you?”
“Oh, Hey God.”
“I’m good. You?”
“Look, God, can I get you something? A sandwich? Some incense? Maybe a hymn or something?…”
Listen, I’m not saying that God doesn’t come in times of peace and serenity. Heck, I know that sometimes I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses… and he walks with me and he talks with me and he tells me I am his own…
I get it. That can happen.
But I am saying that we are foolish if we expect that to be the only time or the only place where God would show up. God’s not waiting for us to get our crap together before he comes into our lives.
More to the point, in a world that seems to be going to hell in a handbasket more often than not, what with shootings in Wilkinsburg and even closer to home, bombings in Belgium and Ivory Coast and half a dozen other places; in a season in which we seem to be perpetually surrounded by death and grief and loss, well…
Friends, it seems like awfully Good News to me that we don’t have to wait around for things to quiet down before we look for God or listen for God or are found by God.
I know that a few of you are in that sweet, sweet, spot of serenity and peace, where everything is light and grace. Praise the Lord. Say “hey” for the rest of us. Because I think that most of us, most of the time, can relate far better to the whirlwind.
You don’t have to leave your questions at home when you come looking for God. You don’t have to overcome your fear or get past your anxiety or get over your grief. Come to God in the midst of your questions and your fears. Expect God to show up in the tempests of your life. In fact, if you find yourself living in the middle of a whirlwind right now, keep your eyes open – because that’s where God lives, lots of times.
God knows where you are.
God is moving ahead of you.
God promises to meet you with new life and resurrection power.
Is your life a red-hot mess right now? Bring it to God in the midst of this storm. He is here. The message of Job and the message of Easter is the same: it is in God’s very nature to speak in the midst of frightening and horrible situations. Let us be attentive, beloved, and let us listen.