Study Desk

"So, Job, use your head; this is all pretty obvious. Can someone who hates order, keep order? Do you dare condemn the righteous, mighty God? Doesn't God always tell it like it is, exposing corrupt rulers as scoundrels and criminals? Does he play favorites with the rich and famous and slight the poor? Isn't he equally responsible to everybody? Don't people who deserve it die without notice? Don't wicked rulers tumble to their doom? When the so-called great ones are wiped out, we know God is working behind the scenes.

"He has his eyes on every man and woman. He doesn't miss a trick. There is no night dark enough, no shadow deep enough, to hide those who do evil. God doesn't need to gather any more evidence; their sin is an open-and-shut case. He deposes the so-called high and mighty without asking questions, and replaces them at once with others. Nobody gets by with anything; overnight, judgment is signed, sealed, and delivered. He punishes the wicked for their wickedness out in the open where everyone can see it, Because they quit following him, no longer even thought about him or his ways. Their apostasy was announced by the cry of the poor; the cry of the afflicted got God's attention.

"If God is silent, what's that to you? If he turns his face away, what can you do about it? But whether silent or hidden, he's there, ruling, so that those who hate God won't take over and ruin people's lives.

"So why don't you simply confess to God? Say, ‘I sinned, but I'll sin no more. Teach me to see what I still don't see. Whatever evil I've done, I'll do it no more.' Just because you refuse to live on God's terms, do you think he should start living on yours? You choose. I can't do it for you. Tell me what you decide.

"When times get bad, people cry out for help. They cry for relief from being kicked around, But never give God a thought when things go well, when God puts spontaneous songs in their hearts, When God sets out the entire creation as a science classroom, using birds and beasts to teach wisdom. People are arrogantly indifferent to God— until, of course, they're in trouble, and then God is indifferent to them. There's nothing behind such prayers except panic; the Almighty pays them no mind. So why would he notice you just because you say you're tired of waiting to be heard, Or waiting for him to get good and angry and do something about the world's problems?

"Do you have any idea how powerful God is? Have you ever heard of a teacher like him? Has anyone ever had to tell him what to do, or correct him, saying, ‘You did that all wrong!'? Remember, then, to praise his workmanship, which is so often celebrated in song. Everybody sees it; nobody is too far away to see it.

"Whenever this happens, my heart stops— I'm stunned, I can't catch my breath. Listen to it! Listen to his thunder, the rolling, rumbling thunder of his voice. He lets loose his lightnings from horizon to horizon, lighting up the earth from pole to pole. In their wake, the thunder echoes his voice, powerful and majestic. He lets out all the stops, he holds nothing back. No one can mistake that voice— His word thundering so wondrously, his mighty acts staggering our understanding. He orders the snow, ‘Blanket the earth!' and the rain, ‘Soak the whole countryside!' No one can escape the weather—it's there. And no one can escape from God. Wild animals take shelter, crawling into their dens, When blizzards roar out of the north and freezing rain crusts the land. It's God's breath that forms the ice, it's God's breath that turns lakes and rivers solid. And yes, it's God who fills clouds with rainwater and hurls lightning from them every which way. He puts them through their paces—first this way, then that— commands them to do what he says all over the world. Whether for discipline or grace or extravagant love, he makes sure they make their mark.

"Job, are you listening? Have you noticed all this? Stop in your tracks! Take in God's miracle-wonders! Do you have any idea how God does it all, how he makes bright lightning from dark storms, How he piles up the cumulus clouds— all these miracle-wonders of a perfect Mind? Why, you don't even know how to keep cool on a sweltering hot day, So how could you even dream of making a dent in that hot-tin-roof sky?

"If you're so smart, give us a lesson in how to address God. We're in the dark and can't figure it out. Do you think I'm dumb enough to challenge God? Wouldn't that just be asking for trouble? No one in his right mind stares straight at the sun on a clear and cloudless day. As gold comes from the northern mountains, so a terrible beauty streams from God.

"Mighty God! Far beyond our reach! Unsurpassable in power and justice! It's unthinkable that he'd treat anyone unfairly. So bow to him in deep reverence, one and all! If you're wise, you'll most certainly worship him."

"Why do you confuse the issue? Why do you talk without knowing what you're talking about? Pull yourself together, Job! Up on your feet! Stand tall! I have some questions for you, and I want some straight answers. Where were you when I created the earth? Tell me, since you know so much! Who decided on its size? Certainly you'll know that! Who came up with the blueprints and measurements? How was its foundation poured, and who set the cornerstone, While the morning stars sang in chorus and all the angels shouted praise? And who took charge of the ocean when it gushed forth like a baby from the womb? That was me! I wrapped it in soft clouds, and tucked it in safely at night. Then I made a playpen for it, a strong playpen so it couldn't run loose, And said, ‘Stay here, this is your place. Your wild tantrums are confined to this place.'

"And have you ever ordered Morning, ‘Get up!' told Dawn, ‘Get to work!' So you could seize Earth like a blanket and shake out the wicked like cockroaches? As the sun brings everything to light, brings out all the colors and shapes, The cover of darkness is snatched from the wicked— they're caught in the very act!

"Do you know where Light comes from and where Darkness lives So you can take them by the hand and lead them home when they get lost? Why, of course you know that. You've known them all your life, grown up in the same neighborhood with them!

"Have you ever traveled to where snow is made, seen the vault where hail is stockpiled, The arsenals of hail and snow that I keep in readiness for times of trouble and battle and war? Can you find your way to where lightning is launched, or to the place from which the wind blows? Who do you suppose carves canyons for the downpours of rain, and charts the route of thunderstorms That bring water to unvisited fields, deserts no one ever lays eyes on, Drenching the useless wastelands so they're carpeted with wildflowers and grass? And who do you think is the father of rain and dew, the mother of ice and frost? You don't for a minute imagine these marvels of weather just happen, do you?

God then confronted Job directly: "Now what do you have to say for yourself? Are you going to haul me, the Mighty One, into court and press charges?" Job answered: "I'm speechless, in awe—words fail me. I should never have opened my mouth! I've talked too much, way too much. I'm ready to shut up and listen." I Want Straight Answers God addressed Job next from the eye of the storm, and this is what he said: "I have some more questions for you, and I want straight answers. "Do you presume to tell me what I'm doing wrong? Are you calling me a sinner so you can be a saint? Do you have an arm like my arm? Can you shout in thunder the way I can? Go ahead, show your stuff. Let's see what you're made of, what you can do. Unleash your outrage. Target the arrogant and lay them flat. Target the arrogant and bring them to their knees. Stop the wicked in their tracks—make mincemeat of them! Dig a mass grave and dump them in it— faceless corpses in an unmarked grave. I'll gladly step aside and hand things over to you— you can surely save yourself with no help from me! "Look at the land beast, Behemoth. I created him as well as you. Grazing on grass, docile as a cow— Just look at the strength of his back, the powerful muscles of his belly. His tail sways like a cedar in the wind; his huge legs are like beech trees. His skeleton is made of steel, every bone in his body hard as steel. Most magnificent of all my creatures, but I still lead him around like a lamb! The grass-covered hills serve him meals, while field mice frolic in his shadow. He takes afternoon naps under shade trees, cools himself in the reedy swamps, Lazily cool in the leafy shadows as the breeze moves through the willows. And when the river rages he doesn't budge, stolid and unperturbed even when the Jordan goes wild. But you'd never want him for a pet— you'd never be able to housebreak him!"

God then confronted Job directly: "Now what do you have to say for yourself? Are you going to haul me, the Mighty One, into court and press charges?" Job answered: "I'm speechless, in awe—words fail me. I should never have opened my mouth! I've talked too much, way too much. I'm ready to shut up and listen." I Want Straight Answers God addressed Job next from the eye of the storm, and this is what he said: "I have some more questions for you, and I want straight answers. "Do you presume to tell me what I'm doing wrong? Are you calling me a sinner so you can be a saint? Do you have an arm like my arm? Can you shout in thunder the way I can? Go ahead, show your stuff. Let's see what you're made of, what you can do. Unleash your outrage. Target the arrogant and lay them flat. Target the arrogant and bring them to their knees. Stop the wicked in their tracks—make mincemeat of them! Dig a mass grave and dump them in it— faceless corpses in an unmarked grave. I'll gladly step aside and hand things over to you— you can surely save yourself with no help from me! "Look at the land beast, Behemoth. I created him as well as you. Grazing on grass, docile as a cow— Just look at the strength of his back, the powerful muscles of his belly. His tail sways like a cedar in the wind; his huge legs are like beech trees. His skeleton is made of steel, every bone in his body hard as steel. Most magnificent of all my creatures, but I still lead him around like a lamb! The grass-covered hills serve him meals, while field mice frolic in his shadow. He takes afternoon naps under shade trees, cools himself in the reedy swamps, Lazily cool in the leafy shadows as the breeze moves through the willows. And when the river rages he doesn't budge, stolid and unperturbed even when the Jordan goes wild. But you'd never want him for a pet— you'd never be able to housebreak him!"

"Do you presume to tell me what I'm doing wrong? Are you calling me a sinner so you can be a saint? Do you have an arm like my arm? Can you shout in thunder the way I can? Go ahead, show your stuff. Let's see what you're made of, what you can do. Unleash your outrage. Target the arrogant and lay them flat. Target the arrogant and bring them to their knees. Stop the wicked in their tracks—make mincemeat of them! Dig a mass grave and dump them in it— faceless corpses in an unmarked grave. I'll gladly step aside and hand things over to you— you can surely save yourself with no help from me!

"Or can you pull in the sea beast, Leviathan, with a fly rod and stuff him in your creel? Can you lasso him with a rope, or snag him with an anchor? Will he beg you over and over for mercy, or flatter you with flowery speech? Will he apply for a job with you to run errands and serve you the rest of your life? Will you play with him as if he were a pet goldfish? Will you make him the mascot of the neighborhood children? Will you put him on display in the market and have shoppers haggle over the price? Could you shoot him full of arrows like a pin cushion, or drive harpoons into his huge head? If you so much as lay a hand on him, you won't live to tell the story. What hope would you have with such a creature? Why, one look at him would do you in! If you can't hold your own against his glowering visage, how, then, do you expect to stand up to me? Who could confront me and get by with it? I'm in charge of all this—I run this universe!

"He snorts and the world lights up with fire, he blinks and the dawn breaks. Comets pour out of his mouth, fireworks arc and branch. Smoke erupts from his nostrils like steam from a boiling pot. He blows and fires blaze; flames of fire stream from his mouth. All muscle he is—sheer and seamless muscle. To meet him is to dance with death. Sinewy and lithe, there's not a soft spot in his entire body— As tough inside as out, rock-hard, invulnerable. Even angels run for cover when he surfaces, cowering before his tail-thrashing turbulence. Javelins bounce harmlessly off his hide, harpoons ricochet wildly. Iron bars are so much straw to him, bronze weapons beneath notice. Arrows don't even make him blink; bullets make no more impression than raindrops. A battle ax is nothing but a splinter of kindling; he treats a brandished harpoon as a joke. His belly is armor-plated, inexorable— unstoppable as a barge. He roils deep ocean the way you'd boil water, he whips the sea like you'd whip an egg into batter. With a luminous trail stretching out behind him, you might think Ocean had grown a gray beard! There's nothing on this earth quite like him, not an ounce of fear in that creature! He surveys all the high and mighty— king of the ocean, king of the deep!"

So, rebel-kings, use your heads; Upstart-judges, learn your lesson: Worship God in adoring embrace, Celebrate in trembling awe. Kiss Messiah! Your very lives are in danger, you know; His anger is about to explode, But if you make a run for God—you won't regret it!