High Crimes and Misdemeanors

He shall surely dispute with you if in secret you are partial.  Job 12:10  Robert Alter

Partial – The story of Job can be quite personal.  Yes, there are academic issues involved.  Who was the author?  When was it written?  What is the theological implication?  Those are all important questions, but if they become the focus of the study, then the real message may get buried in all the technical resolutions.  What is the real message?  Well, most people would say that Job is an attempt to answer the question, “How come bad things happen to good people?”  On the surface, that seems to be the issue.  It certainly is part of the narrative, although in the end I don’t think this story offers an answer.  Perhaps that’s because the real issue is far more personal.  Job provides us with a reflection of ourselves.  Job represents the very best of humanity.  He’s the model citizen.  His struggle is only exacerbated when he becomes my measuring rod because I am not the model citizen.  I’m guilty of high crimes and misdemeanors.  It takes but a moment for me to recognize that my faith is fairly defective, and certainly inadequate.  Let me explain.

What is the essence of Job’s faith?  In a word, trust.  He never lets go of his belief that despite everything that has happened he trusts God.  To the point of death.  He never veers from the path by distracting himself from his troubles.  He faces his situation head on.  It leaves him cognitively unsatisfied but it doesn’t strip him of his emotional reliance on God.  Faced with far less trials, I don’t measure up.  I do seek detours.  I don’t really believe, as an active verb, that God will take care of me.  That idea is buried in my cognitive web, but it doesn’t show up in my practical choices.  My “statement of faith” is far more a matter of correct thinking than it is of correct behaving.  And that’s why the story of Job is so condemning.  His faith is firmly connected to the way he lives.  Mine is too often detached, disconnected while I rummage around trying to console myself with some emotionally charged distraction.  I think modern psychology calls these efforts addictions, probably because they become routine patterns whenever I find myself feeling even the tiniest bit of Job’s circumstances.  So, Job confronts me.  My high crime is the lack of faith necessary to allow God to care for my deepest needs when the world doesn’t cooperate.  My misdemeanors are all the self-medications I use to not face the reality of my unfaithfulness.

Job might not offer us an intellectually satisfying answer to the problem of evil, but I’m not so sure that even if we had an intellectually satisfying answer it would really make any true difference.  Our real issue isn’t cognitive.  It’s ethical, moral, relational.  Can I trust God when my world falls apart?  Oh, that question is too big.  My world doesn’t normally “fall apart.”  Job’s world did.  Mine is more like encounters with bumps and molehills.  My unfaithfulness shows itself with the least level of moral pressure.  “To do the right thing regardless of the consequences” is often my fault line.  I turn away from the choice because I don’t like the emotional pain—only to find, of course, that the emotional pain just continues in another direction.  Job has a lot to teach me.  None of it is theoretical.

Topical Index: faith, trust, Job 12:10