Sermon Tone Analysis

As Americans, we prefer a God who is small

a God we can manage, predict and control.

We want a God that feels safe to us.

One that we can fully understand and explain.

One that doesn’t embarrass, confuse, contradict us or make us made.

We want what C.S. Lewis called a “tamed lion”.

The God of the Bible is the opposite of small and manageable.

He is bigger than all the words we use to say big.

He defies our abilities to categorize or describe him.

Most Americans want a God who is only a slightly bigger, slightly smarter version of us.

But the God of the Bible is something altogether different.

And here’s the irony:

Only a God like that is capable of explaining life’s mysteries

giving us a real sense of purpose in the world, and igniting our passions.

It’s like the British philosopher Evelyn Underhill famously said,

A god small enough to be understood is not big enough to be worshipped.

Solomon calls this “the fear of God,” and says that it is necessary for any proper relationship with God:

Without a trembling awe before the majesty of God, we’ll never really know God, or trust him, or walk with him.

If you’ve been around here for any length of time, you know that I have tried to be honest with you about the struggles with belief I’ve had throughout my life.

Like—

Why is there so much suffering in the world?

I get that God can use some pain for good purposes, but what possible good could God have had in the holocaust?

Or,

How does the concept of hell align with a view of a loving God?

Or how about this one:

If Christianity is true, why do so few people believe it?

And why isn’t God doing more about it to get people saved?

Why not send an angel down to preach the gospel?

Maybe you have had some of these same questions.

Maybe others.

And sometimes I thought, You know, the fact that I can’t understand or explain these things may mean God doesn’t even exist.

I’ve come to see that one of my primary problems in all of this was a conception of God that was too small.

I thought of God as just a slightly bigger, slightly smarter version of me; a God that I should be able easily to understand and explain.

But that is absolutely not the God of the Bible, and that conception of God is just not able to sustain faith.

Its only by grappling with the size of God that I developed the ability really to believe.

In this message I want to unpack the experience of the man in the Bible who had more questions for God than anyone else I know of.

In fact, his name has become synonymous with confusion and doubt.

His name is Job.

We don’t know much about Job.

He is said to be from “Uz.”

Where is Uz? Scholars don’t know.

It sounds like the place at the end of the yellow brick road.

We don’t know what time period Job lives in.

Or even what nationality he is.

We know he’s not an Israelite because he doesn’t have an Israelite name.

But this lack of detail, scholars say, is intentional, because evidently the author doesn’t want us to get fixated on Job’s particular historical situation; he wants us to focus on the questions raised by Job’s suffering—questions that are universal—questions everyone asks.

All we are told in Job 1:1 is that Job is a “blameless, upright man,”

which is a Hebrew way of saying that he helped little old ladies cross the street, always ate all his vegetables and turned in his library books on time.

He read every word of the “terms and condition” on his new iPhone updates.

Just a stellar fella.

Heavenly Meeting

right after this brief introduction, we get whisked off to heaven where God is apparently having a meeting, and among those attending this meeting is a feisty fella called, “The Sa-TAHN.”

In Hebrew, this means “The Accuser” or “The Prosecutor.”

And the Sa-Tan raises a critical challenge.

He says,

You know, God, the only reason people serve you is that it’s in their own self-interest.

They serve you because you give them stuff.

Let them suffer and they’ll give you up.”

So, God says, “Alright, take Job.

You can take everything in his life from him that he loves, and you’ll see that he values me for me.”

And for the next 2 chapters, that’s what happens.

Satan takes everything from Job.

Interestingly Satan doesn’t touch his wife.

I’m not sure what that means.

She turns out to be pretty cranky.

At this point in the narrative, you should be asking, “Wait—what?

Why in the world would God allow this?

And then we’d expect the rest of the book to provide answers to this question.

But that’s not what we get.

Chapter 3: Enter Job’s friends: Eliphaz the Temanite, Zophar the Na’amathite, and, the shortest man in the Bible, Bildad the Shuhite (get it, shu-height?

You’ll want to write that down).

These men try to explain Job’s suffering using the best of ancient wisdom.

FWIW, they seem to be halfway decent friends.

They sit with Job in his misery and try to comfort him.

Basically, they say to Job, “Look, we know God is just.

And we know everything happens for a reason.

So, the fact that you are suffering means there is a reason God is doing this to you.”

Job pushes back

“That’s not true.

I’m not saying I’m perfect but I’m innocent of anything that would warrant this.”

They hold their line

“Look, Job, there has to be something.

God is just and everything happens for a reason.

So, think hard.

What is it?”

And this goes on for 37 chapters.

Job, exasperated, says, “Listen, guys.

You’re wrong.

And the more you talk, the worse I feel.

Your talking is not helping.”

It reminds me of the story of the man who gets pulled over.

The officer says, “Did you know how fast you were going?” man says “no”; wife says, “Yes you did.”

Did you know tail light was out? “Oh yes, he’s known for months.”

Why are you not wearing your seat belt?

Took it off when you were coming up.

“No, you never wear it.

Finally, the man yells, “Woman, would you BE QUIET?!” Officer: Does he always treat you this way?

“Only when he’s drunk.”

Stop talking!

You’re not helping!