In search of a good ending
Many thanks to those who are keen to support my writing financially! As a reminder, I plan to write every-other-month only for paid subscribers. Gear up for musings likely even more densely theological than usual…
My hope is that you will find yourself reflecting and growing and doxologising with me.
Unhappy with a happy ending
Some think that Job’s happy ending ruins the book.
10 And the Lord restored the fortunes of Job, when he had prayed for his friends. And the Lord gave Job twice as much as he had before. … 12 And the Lord blessed the latter days of Job more than his beginning. And he had 14,000 sheep, 6,000 camels, 1,000 yoke of oxen, and 1,000 female donkeys. 13 He had also seven sons and three daughters. … 16 And after this Job lived 140 years, and saw his sons, and his sons' sons, four generations. 17 And Job died, an old man, and full of days.
— Job 42:10, 12–13, 16–17 (ESV)
At the beginning of the book, the Adversary (the satan) had insinuated that pious Job only lived with apparent integrity—that is, Job feigned faithfulness to God in order to get good things from the divine-blessing-dispensary. When God subsequently allowed Job’s wealth to vanish, his ten children to die, and his health to deteriorate, Job’s galling predicament begged the question: is disinterested piety possible? And is living with allegiance to God credible and worthwhile in a world where such awful circumstances could beset so righteous (and helpless) a human?
During the throes of his suffering, Job’s friends had unhelpfully insisted that the world operates under a strict ‘retribution principle,’ meaning that people reliably receive consequences commensurate with their actions. Reversing the syllogism of their ‘you get what you deserve’ logic, they conclude that Job’s present affliction must be symptomatic of latent unconfessed sin. But the reader demurs: from the first chapters, the narrator and God himself have affirmed Job as ‘blameless and upright, fearing God and turning away from evil’ (1:1, 8; 2:3). These disasters have happened to him ‘for no reason’ (cf. 2:3).
Then we get to the end of the book, and Job rebounds to escalated—‘more than’ (42:12)—blessing: his possessions are doubled, he fathers ten more children, and he lives a doubly ‘full’ life (cf. Ps 90:10). Yet we may chafe at this rebound. After Job’s agonising perseverance through unfairness, is God paying Job back, tacitly admitting that he had wronged Job by stealing his stuff and now trying to make up for it? Does this prove that the Adversary was right after all, that God and Job have a transactional relationship and Job has now ‘earned back’ divine benefits? And if so, would that not implicitly affirm the simplistic formula that Job’s friends had insensitively propounded and Job had valiantly resisted?
An underlying theological issue as we consider the conclusion of this book is how to end well stories that contain grave suffering without trivialising that suffering. How can narratives with real horror be infused with real hope? How does the good prevail without merely bypassing the bad?