In the land of Uz there lived a man whose name was Job. This man was blameless and upright; he feared God and shunned evil.

Job 1:1

Ah, Job I thought as I contemplated the Womenary calendar last fall—not exactly the most uplifting book. Now wasn’t that just typical of 2020! But what better time than the present to consider the reality of suffering with all the ups and downs of that year and the February deep freeze of this. Let’s jump on into the deep end ladies, as suffering is indeed a deep subject. 

Suffering has been around forever. Well, not quite forever—God’s original garden design did not include suffering. At least, that’s not my definition of Paradise. Words like “pain” and “toil” and “afraid” and “sweat” only appear in Genesis after Adam and Eve disobeyed God’s one rule. Prior to that, peace and blessing and intimacy with the Lord were the norm. 

It is not surprising to see that the story of Job’s intense suffering and God’s revealing response made it into Scripture. Suffering as just deserts is one thing. But what about When Bad Things Happen to Good People, as Rabbi Kushner entitled his grief query (Anchor Books, 1981) when his three-year-old son Aaron (1963-1977) was diagnosed with progeria or rapid aging syndrome? 

We cannot run and hide; suffering touches us all. And during suffering it quickly becomes clear that all our theology is rattled to the bone. The big questions were summed up by Epicurus, 3rd century BC, in his Trilemma: 

“1.Is God willing to prevent evil, but not able? Then he is not omnipotent (all-powerful).

 2.Is he able but not willing? Then he is malevolent (evil).

 3.Is he both willing and able? Then whence cometh evil?” 

And some have added: “Is he neither able nor willing? Then why call him God?” 

And so we enter into the raw conversations of Job, peeling back layers of heartfelt depth. To couch the story of Job’s deep despair in the unique poetry of Wisdom Literature makes his lament palpable. In the end will he wallow in its depths, or rise to the surface and take the hand God offers him out of the pit? Will you? Will I the next time I cry: “But God, it’s just not fair!”? 

Nancy P