A story
that has always fascinated me is the story of Job, because from the beginning
to almost the end, his search for answers challenges principles that many
people take for granted—such as the principle of cause and effect, which holds
that every action leads to a consequence. A clear example of this is
retributive justice, the belief that God rewards those who do good and punishes
those who do evil. It is the disruption of retributive justice that sets off a
series of debates between Job and his friends, and between Job and his wife,
and eventually leads to the intervention of Elihu, a young man who acts as God’s
defender and raises the curtain to the most decisive intervention of all—God’s
own.
Job’s
desperation to make sense of what he was passing through dared him to ask
questions that were as universal as they were uncomfortable-and even
controversial. These questions have remained relevant throughout the ages, even
to this day. A quick paraphrase of four of Job’s questions in more
contemporary language shows that anyone who has experienced-or is currently
facing-some form of pain, whether tragedy, chronic hardship, or illness, could
easily ask: Why Was I Born If I Was Going to Suffer Like This? (Job 3:11) Why
does God treat me like an enemy? (Job 7:17–20) What did I do to deserve this?
(Job 6:24) Why Doesn’t God Answer My Cries? (Job 30:20).
First, a bit of Context
Sat on
ashes, covered in sores, scratching himself with a piece of broken pottery was Job.
Not long before, he had been a powerful man, surrounded by wealth and a large
family. His acts of kindness had earned him a reputation as a righteous man.
Yet in a single day, he lost everything.
Second,
the most devastating blow came when a servant brought the terrible news that
Job’s children had died after a violent wind from the desert collapsed the
house where they were feasting (Job 1:18–19 NIV). Anyone in such a situation
might have exploded in anger, rage, or despair. Yet what is remarkable in this
part of the story is Job’s calm and deeply spiritual response: “The Lord gave,
and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be
praised” (Job 1:21–22).
Third,
the situation became worse when a skin disease afflicted Job, causing severe
itching and leaving his body covered in sores from constant scratching. Despite
all his suffering, Job maintained an upright attitude. However, his attitude
began to shift after his wife’s intervention. Could her words have influenced
this change in tone?
Finally,
although seven days of silence followed Job’s wife’s words, the Bible records
her statement as the last one spoken before Job broke his silence. Therefore,
her brief but intense statement, “Are you still maintaining your
integrity? Curse God and die!” (Job 2:9) may have deeply disturbed Job.
From that moment on, Job began to express his pain, anger, and confusion. It
wasn’t that the death of his children hurt him any less than his illness, but
rather that his response reflected the accumulated weight of all the suffering
he had endured.
In
psychology, this kind of reaction is known as traumatic impact. Traumatic
impact occurs when the mind is overwhelmed by extreme events. Trauma can
manifest in various ways—one of which is a search for identity. When someone
loses what once felt firm and secure, they are forced to rebuild their
understanding of the world—and of themselves. The search for meaning and
identity in the midst of pain is a constant theme throughout the book of Job.
Job has
no idea of the conversation between God and Satan in the heavenly courts; he is
not aware that he has become the target of the tempter—one of the titles
attributed to Satan in the Old Testament. “The Lord said to Satan, “Very
well, then, he is in your hands; but you must spare his life” (Job 2:6).
Although Job is unaware of this situation in heaven, he is certain that what he
is experiencing is the result of an alteration in the spiritual realm.
Therefore, in his search for answers, no question is too foolish to ask. Every
complaint, lament, and argument are allowed, all of them except one: cursing
God!
1 Why Was I Born If I Was Going
to Suffer Like This?
Although
Job does not follow his wife’s advice—to curse God and die to end his
suffering—it is striking that the first questions he raises concern his very
existence: “Why did I not perish at birth, and die as I came from the womb?”
(Job 3:11). In other words Why Was I Born If I Was Going to Suffer Like
This? With these words, Job begins a series of speeches in which, more than
simply expressing his pain, he embarks on a one-way journey that will forever
change the way he relates to God. Job is beginning to realize that there are
things about God he does not know.
In fact,
“Why Was I Born If I Was Going to Suffer Like This?” directly challenges
retributive justice’s concept. Because it suggests that living a righteous life
does not always guarantee reward—at least not on this side of heaven—and that
suffering can strike even the innocent. However, when viewed through the lens
of lived experience, this question flows like a stream of fresh water through
the arid desert of retributive justice. It brings honesty into the conversation
about pain and creates space for the kinds of questions that emerge from deep,
human anguish.
While the
preacher in Ecclesiastes urges us to measure our words in light of God’s
transcendence—God above and beyond the created world—saying, “Do not be quick
with your mouth, do not be hasty in your heart to utter anything before God.
God is in heaven and you are on earth, so let your words be few.”
(Ecclesiastes 5:1–2). Job by contrast, reveals God as deeply involved in His
creation through His immanence—present within, near, and intimately engaged
with both the universe and humanity. This becomes evident when he cries out, “What
is mankind that you make so much of them, that you give them so much attention, that
you examine them every morning and test them every moment?” (Job
7:17–18). To Job, God is not a distant being but someone with whom he can speak
openly, without censors. Though it is true that God is infinitely great and
mysterious, He is also intimately present and active in creation. Job’s
experience helps us see that expressing our pain before God is not
irreverent—it is, in fact, legitimate and necessary.
2. Why does God consider me His
enemy? (Job 7:17–20)
In his
affliction, Job searched for an explanation for his suffering, and his logic
pointed to the only one accountable—God. How could the same hand that had once
protected and blessed him now strike him down? “Will you never look away from
me, or let me alone even for an instant? If I have sinned, what have I done to
you, you who see everything we do? Why have you made me your target? Have I
become a burden to you?” (Job 7:19–20). After being overwhelmed by a cascade of
tragedies—culminating in an attack on his own body—Job feels, deep in his soul,
that the only being capable of loving him unconditionally has not only
abandoned him but turned against him. Today, many people feel the same way.
Some time
ago, as part of the process for my student visa in Malta, I went to an office
to renew my life insurance. When the agent was making copies of my documents,
noticed that my university studies focused on the Bible and theology. He turned
to me and said:
“My parents have a lot of faith
in God. I used to believe too... but not anymore.”
After he told me that, five years
earlier, his wife had given birth to a baby, but a lung condition took the
child’s life just a few days after being born. With bitterness in his voice, he
said,
“The baby went straight from the
hospital to the funeral.”
He stepped away from the
photocopier, sat down at his desk holding the copies, looked me in the eye, and
asked:
“Can you explain to me what kind
of God lets something like that happen to an innocent child?”
Instead of trying to justify what
I didn’t understand, I chose to answer:
“I don’t know. I don’t know what
kind of God allows a baby to die like that... just as I don’t understand what
kind of God allows His own Son—who only did good and spoke truth—to die in the
worst possible way, unjustly condemned by the very people He came to save.”
Then I added:
God also knows what it feels like
to lose a child.
The intimacy of that conversation
brought us close to tears. He placed the contract on the desk, I signed it, we
said goodbye, and I left the insurance office with the conviction that, when we
do not have an answer, the most honest thing we can do is to admit it—and to
accept that some mysteries are simply beyond our understanding.
3 What did I do to Deserve
this? (Job 6:24)
There are
people whose desire to explain suffering causes them to lose all sensitivity to
the pain of others. In Job’s story, his friends—rather than offering
comfort—turned against him. First, Eliphaz, for example, speculate that Job’s
suffering was God’s way of correcting him, and the best thing Job could do was
accept it as a punishment: “Do not despise the discipline of the Almighty” (Job
5:17). According to Eliphaz’s logic, Job was getting what he deserved for
something wrong he had done.
Second,
Zophar, another of Job’s friends, went even further by claiming that Job
deserved an even harsher punishment: “Oh, how I wish that God would speak, that
he would open his lips against you and disclose to you the secrets of wisdom,
for true wisdom has two sides. Know this: God has even forgotten some of your
sin” (Job 11:5–6). Apparently, from Zophar’s point of view, Job’s suffering was
not enough.
Third,
Bildad, one of Job’s friends, not only harshly blamed Job for his suffering but
also suggested that his children had died because of their own sin: “When your
children sinned against him, he gave them over to the penalty of their sin”
(Job 8:4). Bildad’s perspective is rooted in the idea of retributive justice.
Finally,
even Job’s wife, instead of comforting him, urged him to give up: “Are you
still maintaining your integrity? Curse God and die!” (Job 2:9). Besides losing
his children, possessions, and health, Job experienced the loneliness of not
being understood by anyone—not even his wife.
Attributing
people’s suffering to personal failure only deepens their sense of guilt. While
it’s true that we sometimes face the consequences of our actions, not
everything that happens to us—or could happen—is the result of something we
did. Today, for example, even though science has not found solid evidence that
stress alone causes disease, many people believe that excessive stress leads to
cancer and end up blaming the sick for their condition. Telling someone who is
suffering, “That happened to you because of stress,” or “God is punishing you
for something you did,” is simply a modern version of the same mistake Job’s
friends made.
Although
Job’s friends and his wife judged him, he remained firm in his conviction that
he had done nothing to deserve such severe punishment. Besides the pain of
losing his children, health, and possessions, what most troubled Job was God’s
silence in response to his questions.
4
Why
Doesn’t God Answer My Cries?
As we saw
earlier, unlike the Preacher of Ecclesiastes, Job sees God as fully involved in
His creation. That is why God’s silence is so disconcerting to him: I cry out
to you, God, but you do not answer; I stand up, but you merely look at me”
“Though I cry, ‘Violence!’ I get no response; though I call for
help, there is no justice.” (Job 30:20; 19:7). Job cannot understand why
God, who sees and hears everything, does not answer his questions. Is God
deliberately ignoring Job?
All Job’s
accusations against God make Elihu’s intervention so significant. After
listening to Job, Elihu dared to speak up in God’s defence in a wise and
precise manner.
But you have said in my
hearing—I heard the very words—I am pure, “I have done no wrong; I am
clean and free from sin. Yet God has found fault with me; he considers me
his enemy. He fastens my feet in shackles; he keeps close watch on all my
paths.” But I tell you, in this you are not right, for God is greater than any
mortal. Why do you complain to him that he responds to no one’s words? (Job
33:8–13).
Undoubtedly,
as Elihu declares, in His sovereignty, God reserves the right to answer—or not
answer—our questions.
Like Job,
Jesus Christ also felt abandoned by God in His suffering on the cross, which
led Him to cry out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew
27:46). The Father remained silent before His Son’s pain to redeem humanity.
Therefore, from eternity, God chose to forsake Himself to save all who believe
in Him (John 1:12).
After
listening to all of Job’s arguments, God granted his request to debate with Him
(Job 13:3). God’s exact words were: “Who is this that obscures my plans with
words without knowledge?” (Job 38:1–2). God confronted Job with numerous
matters—among them, the profound mysteries of the universe: “Can you bind the
chains of the Pleiades? Can you loosen Orion’s belt? Can you bring forth the
constellations in their seasons or lead out the Bear with its cubs? Do you know
the laws of the heavens? Can you set up God’s dominion over the earth?” (Job
38:31, 33). By demanding answers, Job had—perhaps unknowingly—placed himself on
equal terms with God. Nevertheless, God gave Job something far greater: a
personal encounter with Himself!
Job
experienced firsthand what Paul would later express: “For now we see only a
reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know
in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known” (1 Corinthians
13:12). If we came to know God in the same way Job did, would we still be
asking the same questions?
Furthermore,
did Job fully understand what he was asking for? As an external observer, Elihu
could see Job’s situation with greater objectivity and stated, “So Job opens
his mouth with empty talk; without knowledge he multiplies words” (Job 35:16).
In times of crisis, it is common to lose clarity; pain can lead us to express
confusion, irritation, complaint, and even resentment.
Furthermore,
in most of Job’s debates, he begins by replying to his friends and ends by
addressing God. A switch that can be seen in one of his answers to Bildad: “I
loathe my very life; therefore, I will give free rein to my complaint and speak
out in the bitterness of my soul. I say to God, do not declare me guilty but
tell me what charges you have against me. Does it please you to oppress me, to
spurn the work of your hands, while you smile on the plans of the wicked?” (Job
10:1–4, NIV). Therefore, more than debating, Job is in fact praying. God
receives Job’s prayers and sees beyond Job’s questions into his deepest
desires. As Paul writes in Romans 8:26, “We do not know what we ought to pray
for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.”
Therefore, instead of giving Job what he asks for, God gives him what he truly
needs.
At the
end, Job realized that what he knew about God was just a drop, and what he did
not know an ocean. Therefore, he came to understand that his way of thinking
about how God should act toward good, and evil was only a tiny fraction of an
immensely greater reality.
Reducing
God to just two basic truths limit our ability to know Him deeply. This is what
happened to Job’s friends, who condemned Job out of fear that his words might
threaten the only truth they knew about God. As a result, they received a
rebuke from God: “I am angry with you and your two friends, because you have
not spoken the truth about me, as my servant Job has” (Job 42:7). This teaches
us that we should not judge anyone who is suffering based on our own
understanding of what is good or evil.
In Job’s
case, when God saw Job’s surrender, God restored Job, giving him twice as much
as he had lost. “After Job had prayed for his friends, the Lord restored his
fortunes and gave him twice as much as he had before.” (Job 42:10, NIV) (Job
42). The only exception was his children. Although the first ones had died,
they were still his children—only now, they were in the eternal realm.
Though
God may not always respond as we expect, He knows the intentions of our hearts
better than we do—and He proves it by giving us what we truly need, beyond what
we say we need. That’s why, when frustration creates friction in our lives, it’s
worth asking: Do we truly want to know God as He is, even if it contradicts our
expectations—or are we simply seeking a version of Him that fits the
comfortable image we’ve created? Moreover, Job’s story also makes it clear that
when everything slips out of our control, it remains under God’s control.

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