Have
you ever had an idea about something
that was really firm in your mind,
one of those things that you
"always knew"
and were absolutely convinced about,
and then suddenly, unexpectedly
discovered
that all along
you had got it wrong?
Not majorly wrong
but you'd only seen part of the truth,
and seeing it from a different perspective
made you realize how much you'd been missing out on.
It's as if you had a favorite painting that you'd seen in a book,
a painting of a woman's face,
and then you got the chance to see the real thing,
and when you walked into the gallery where it was on show,
you suddenly realized that what you'd been admiring all along
was jut a small part of the picture,
and the painting was not just a face, but the whole body, and a wonderful
background as well.
That's
how it was for Job.
We've been following his story for four weeks now,
beginning with that first scene of God and Satan's conversation in
heaven
and the resulting tragedy on earth,
Job's farms destroyed, livestock carried off, and children killed,
he himself afflicted with boils all over his body,
and his friends and even his wife urging him
to curse God
and die.
Which he refused to do.
Then
we heard Job
lamenting to God, demanding to know
why he was the victim of so much suffering.
Why God, why?
Then
last week we heard God's response,
a wonderful poetic defense
of the creator of all things.
And finally this week
we get to the end of the story.
Job comes to a conclusion.
He stands in front of God
and admits
that maybe, just maybe
he's got it wrong.
He hasn't actually done anything wrong Job is the same person
he has always been, one that God had been proud to see was righteous,
and even all the suffering inflicted on him didn't change his basic
character, didn't change the way he behaved.
But what happened
was that he suddenly realized
that all his life
he'd had this picture of God
that was just this big
and he was about this big in relation to God.
and suddenly he realized
that God was this big
and he was minuscule in comparison.
It's as if he'd just seen one part of the picture,
and now he gets to see a whole lot more.
And suddenly Job realizes
that he's made a mistake. He's underestimated God.
And so he turns to God
and repents;
he turns to God and says, "I thought I had the right
to demand answers of you. I got it wrong. Please speak,
and this time
I'll listen."
I suspect
that most of us
are more like Job
than we'd like to admit.
We have certain expectations of God.
Things that we learned when we were children.
Things that we've got from the culture around us.
Ways that we've come up with
to deal with what happens to us.
All of those things come together,
and we build up a picture, kind of like a collage
of God.
We take this piece
from the Christmas story,
and this piece
from something that our mother once told us when we were driving her
crazy,
and this piece from a good experience in our family,
and this piece from our favorite hymn,
and this piece from a movie we saw,
and so on and so on,
layer upon layer,
until we end up with a picture of God.
But the only problem is
that our picture of God
might not actually be
very accurate.
Out of all those pieces, some might be pretty good,
but some might be a bit distorted,
some maybe even wrong,
and of course,
we're never going to have enough pieces
to get the whole picture,
not, at least,
until we die and get to meet God
face to face.
Like Job
our picture of God
tends to be too small.
And
in a way that's inevitable.
It comes of being this little
with a God who is
this big.
But
that doesn't mean it's hopeless
as Job discovered.
Job's idea of God
was that he was kind of like a heavenly Santa Claus.
If something bad happened to you,
it must be a punishment, because you'd done something wrong.
If something good happened,
it must be a reward, because you'd done something good.
But what Job discovered
is that that isn't
how God works.
God's way of working
isn't like ours.
And sometimes all the questions, all the logic, all our preconceived
ideas
aren't going to explain to us why things happen.
And
when that happens
the best thing we can do
is go back to God.
Go back to God,
and listen.
Pay attention.
See what God might be doing.
And when we do that
we might be surprised what we discover.
Job
certainly was.
After he admitted to God
that maybe he'd got it wrong,
that maybe
God had reasons beyond Job's own understanding,
that maybe the best thing he could do
would be just sit and listen to God a while,
then God did something
that Job would never in a million years
have expected.
God blessed Job.
Blessed him beyond his imagining.
All
the while Job had been questioning God,
back in a corner of his mind, he'd probably been thinking,
if only God would make my life
back how it used to be.
And instead,
God blessed him, blessed him twice over. His family returned to him
and brought him gifts. He had double the livestock that he'd had before.
He had sons and daughters, and his daughters were known across the
land for their beauty. He had so much that all his children got a
large share in his inheritance. And he lived to a ripe old age, and
was able to enjoy God's blessing.
It was the last thing he expected.
But God,
as he discovered, when he watched and listened and waited,
God
is a God of blessing.
Sometimes
we wonder what's going on. Sometimes we wonder
where God is. Sometimes it feels like God
might have fallen off the job.
But if Job's story is anything to go by,
sometimes
we have to wait.
And
eventually
God will bless us. Maybe not how we expect. Maybe not when we expect.
Most likely not because of anything we've done.
But because that's who God is, a God of blessing.
God will bless us.
All
he asks
is for us to keep our eyes and ears open,
to watch
to listen
to wait
to trust
and God will reach out
and bless us.
Sermon
©Raewynne J. Whiteley 2006