2.9 Job as Messianic Apologetic

1. JEWISH:
1. He went into his father's business
2. He lived at home until the age of 33
3. He was sure his mother was a virgin, and his mother was sure he was God
2. IRISH:
1. He never got married.
2. He never held a steady job
3. His last request was for a drink
3. ITALIAN:
1. He talked with his hands
2. He had wine with every meal
3. He worked in the building trades
4. BLACK:
1. He called everybody brother
2. He had no permanent address
3. Nobody would hire him
5. CALIFORNIAN:
1. He never cut his hair
2. He walked around barefoot
3. He invented a new religion
6. REDNECK:
1. His friends were all fishing buddies
2. He ate laying on the couch
3. He showed up four days late to his best friend's funeral

The Advocate, the Explanation

If we are to say that this is a male book, it is not to say that Job's male friends understand his plight. Job very quickly recognizes that his friends are no help at all, I have heard many things like these; miserable comforters are you all! Will your long-winded speeches never end? What ails you that you keep on arguing? And he turns his debate toward Heaven. (16:2-18)


Yet if I speak, my pain is not relieved; and if I refrain, it does not go away. Surely, O God, you have worn me out; you have devastated my entire household. You have bound me--and it has become a witness; my gauntness rises up and testifies against me. God assails me and tears me in his anger and gnashes his teeth at me; my opponent fastens on me his piercing eyes. Men open their mouths to jeer at me; they strike my cheek in scorn and unite together against me. God has turned me over to evil men and thrown me into the clutches of the wicked. All was well with me, but he shattered me; he seized me by the neck and crushed me. He has made me his target; his archers surround me. Without pity, he pierces my kidneys and spills my gall on the ground. Again and again he bursts upon me; he rushes at me like a warrior. I have sewed sackcloth over my skin and buried my brow in the dust. My face is red with weeping, deep shadows ring my eyes; yet my hands have been free of violence and my prayer is pure. O earth, do not cover my blood; may my cry never be laid to rest!

While this dying scream is still echoing under the brass bowl of the sky, Job astounds everyone by saying, almost softly, sotto voce (16:19-21)


Even now my witness is in heaven; my advocate is on high. My intercessor is my friend as my eyes pour out tears to God; on behalf of a man he pleads with God as a man pleads for his friend.

Whoa! Where did Job come up with that? Who is this mysterious person, and why is portrayed as masculine?

We back up to chapter 1 and look for some mystery man, but in vain. Satan cannot be reasonably construed as an advocate; although he is definately a witness, he most certainly doesn't plead on man's behalf. The angels (sons of Elohim) are mentioned twice, though none of them appear to be intercessors either. The tetragrammaton, LORD, is used often, interspersed with Elohim, God, but it would take a revisionist to see an advocate disguised in that distinction. We jump to the last chapter to see if anything is hiding there. Job is appointed the intercessor for his friends, but no heavenly advocate is named, only the tetragrammaton. If I were forced to find a shirt to pin the name tag on, I suppose it would have to be hiding among the "sons of Elohim", the angels, but it's a shadowy presence. Angels are most often portrayed as men--though in the book of Zechariah they were described as women--but rarely are they more than messengers. So if Job is so certain that his friend is a compassionate lawyer, we will have to search Job's own words for information about him.


• The Problem
In Job's first speech, he expresses his great anguish and despairs of life. In his second speech, he dismisses Eliphaz' implication of guilt, and asks God "Why?" In his third speech and in reply to Bildad, he lays out the problem that God isn't being reasonable. (9:13-24)


God does not restrain his anger; even the cohorts of Rahab cowered at his feet. "How then can I dispute with him? How can I find words to argue with him? Though I were innocent, I could not answer him; I could only plead with my Judge for mercy. Even if I summoned him and he responded, I do not believe he would give me a hearing. He would crush me with a storm and multiply my wounds for no reason. He would not let me regain my breath but would overwhelm me with misery. If it is a matter of strength, he is mighty! And if it is a matter of justice, who will summon him ? Even if I were innocent, my mouth would condemn me; if I were blameless, it would pronounce me guilty.
"Although I am blameless, I have no concern for myself; I despise my own life. It is all the same; that is why I say, 'He destroys both the blameless and the wicked.' When a scourge brings sudden death, he mocks the despair of the innocent. When a land falls into the hands of the wicked, he blindfolds its judges. If it is not he, then who is it?

Already Job is turning the tables on his comforters, saying it is not himself, but God who does unreasonable things. Realizing that this puts himself in the dangerous position of arguing with God, Job defends himself by saying it's a moot point anyway, that even the possibility of a reasonable debate is foreclosed. Job's line of reasoning seems to follow the dictum that the best defense is a good offense. One can almost hear the gasps from his friends as they are pummelled by such blasphemy. Yet Job defends this boldness by saying that God has already taken everything from him, there's no reason now to hold back.


• The Need
If Job had stopped there with an air of hubris, as many have done since then, we would be peering nervously upward for lightning to fall. But Job continues his dialog, begging God for a defense lawyer, an advocate who could present his case. Then he ends the section appealing to God's mercy. These are not the words of a angry and rebellious man, but an abandonned friend.(9:32-10:9)


"He is not a man like me that I might answer him, that we might confront each other in court. If only there were someone to arbitrate between us, to lay his hand upon us both, someone to remove God's rod from me, so that his terror would frighten me no more. Then I would speak up without fear of him, but as it now stands with me, I cannot. "I loathe my very life; therefore I will give free rein to my complaint and speak out in the bitterness of my soul. I will say to God: Do not condemn me, but tell me what charges you have against me. Does it please you to oppress me, to spurn the work of your hands, while you smile on the schemes of the wicked? Do you have eyes of flesh? Do you see as a mortal sees? Are your days like those of a mortal or your years like those of a man, that you must search out my faults and probe after my sin-- though you know that I am not guilty and that no one can rescue me from your hand? "Your hands shaped me and made me. Will you now turn and destroy me? Remember that you molded me like clay. Will you now turn me to dust again?


• The Plan
Naturally, Job's friends have little good to say about such chutzpah. Zophar is quick to rebuke Job, and lecture him on how stern God is toward the ungodly. Job dismisses this lecture as Sunday School lessons for toddlers. Then he warns Zophar that it is a very dangerous thing to defend God, especially when our finite understanding is presented as substitute for God himself. Note carefully what Job is saying here. He agrees that it is very dangerous to seek debate with God, but even more dangerous to defend God falsely. Job's ultimate criterion is Truth; Truth that will provide more than an airtight case in his debate with God, but a defense against God's wrath and perfection. In every sense, Truth becomes Job's deliverance and Savior. If only, Job pleads, God would give him a chance to speak! (13:1-22)


"My eyes have seen all this, my ears have heard and understood it. What you know, I also know; I am not inferior to you. But I desire to speak to the Almighty and to argue my case with God. Will you speak wickedly on God's behalf? Will you speak deceitfully for him? Will you show him partiality? Will you argue the case for God? Would it turn out well if he examined you? Could you deceive him as you might deceive men? He would surely rebuke you if you secretly showed partiality. Would not his splendor terrify you? Would not the dread of him fall on you? Your maxims are proverbs of ashes; your defenses are defenses of clay. "Keep silent and let me speak; then let come to me what may. Why do I put myself in jeopardy and take my life in my hands? Though he slay me, yet will I hope in him; I will surely defend my ways to his face. Indeed, this will turn out for my deliverance, for no godless man would dare come before him! Listen carefully to my words; let your ears take in what I say. Now that I have prepared my case, I know I will be vindicated. Can anyone bring charges against me? If so, I will be silent and die. "Only grant me these two things, O God, and then I will not hide from you: Withdraw your hand far from me, and stop frightening me with your terrors. Then summon me and I will answer, or let me speak, and you reply.


• The Epiphany
The first cycle of speeches is ended, and Eliphaz, the senior spokesman, doesn't like the direction the speeches are headed. It appears that this suffering has destroyed Job's faith and his common sense. Eliphaz abandons his circumspect speech, and tells Job directly that outbursts of this sort are going to get him in deep trouble. Job, however, has warmed up to his topic of Truth. The more he thinks about it, the more he believes that he can stand before God unscathed.

There is a transition here that needs explaining. It is one thing to long for an advocate, but quite another to claim his advocacy. I may be projecting from my own experience, but I have often found that while in debate, I am forced to take positions I had previously avoided. Rather than admit defeat, I become emboldened by my own defense, and rashly draw logical conclusions from the perspective of this unusual position. Rarely have I met an opponent who is prepared for such resistance in the jaws of crushing logic, and the ploy often succeeds. Yet at the same time, I am amazed at the territory I can see from this unique vantage point, and wonder how my defeat has led me to the conquest of new lands. Surely someone was watching my back if my retreat has been transformed into my advance.

Something like this must have happened to Job. No one would want to have to argue with God, any sane man would rather appease the Almighty than contest with Him. Job himself begins by saying the same. Yet the relentless attack of his friends has forced him into a contest with God, and at the same time, shown him the importance of truth, holiness and a divine advocate. Suddenly these come together for Job, and he startles himself as much as his friends when he proclaims (16:19-21),


Even now my witness is in heaven; my advocate is on high. My intercessor is my friend as my eyes pour out tears to God; on behalf of a man he pleads with God as a man pleads for his friend.

If we are not to infer that Job's pain has made him delusional, then we must take him at his word. The operative word appears to be "Even now", for it suggests an immediacy that has been lacking in the previous discourse. It was as if the heavens opened at the end of his earth-shaking cry, and Job saw someone, a man-like being, standing in the court of heaven, debating with God. Strangely, Job doesn't stop his discourse with this revelation, which would suggest that Job heard or felt that his position remained precarious. Despite the efforts of his advocate, it appears that his tears were providing the content of the divine case. At any rate, Job redoubles his efforts at convincing God of his sincerity and anguish.


"Only a few years will pass before I go on the journey of no return. My spirit is broken, my days are cut short, the grave awaits me.

If you will grant me that Job is seeing a vision of heaven, then it may be that God asks Job by his look, "Who else will be a witness? Will you present his case alone? Will there be anyone who will post bail for Job, who will advance the money required for a serious law suit?" Job looks around in vain. These men have their eyes on the ground, they do not see the court of heaven. Job, in a humility that is often confused with pride, but nonetheless a humility that comes through long friendship, asks that God provide the price,


Surely mockers surround me; my eyes must dwell on their hostility. "Give me, O God, the pledge you demand. Who else will put up security for me? You have closed their minds to understanding; therefore you will not let them triumph. If a man denounces his friends for reward, the eyes of his children will fail.


And as his words trail off, the vision ends. His words no longer address God but his friends. You can almost see his chin fall as he lowers his eyes from the sky. He stares bitterly around at his friends who remain oblivious of all that has transpired, who even appear angry at Job's words. Job feels in that anger an attack on everything he has known about God, on everything he has experienced. Their victory would be Job's defeat, Job's death, while their loss would be Job's vindication and salvation.


"God has made me a byword to everyone, a man in whose face people spit. My eyes have grown dim with grief; my whole frame is but a shadow. Upright men are appalled at this; the innocent are aroused against the ungodly. Nevertheless, the righteous will hold to their ways, and those with clean hands will grow stronger.

Then Job's words seemingly get bitter, cynical and even despondent. How could a man who has just seen a vision speak so despairingly in only his second breath? Again, drawing on my own experience, perhaps Job has grown so sure of his position, that he is baiting his friends, as Elijah baited the priests of Baal at Mt Carmel. Clearly it will be hopeless to explain to his friends what has just occurred, perhaps he can challenge them to question their pat conclusions. So Job ends his speech on a hypothetical note, tempting his friends to explain where their hope comes from, if it is not directly from God.


"But come on, all of you, try again! I will not find a wise man among you. My days have passed, my plans are shattered, and so are the desires of my heart. These men turn night into day; in the face of darkness they say, 'Light is near.' If the only home I hope for is the grave, if I spread out my bed in darkness, if I say to corruption, 'You are my father,' and to the worm, 'My mother' or 'My sister,' where then is my hope? Who can see any hope for me? Will it go down to the gates of death ? Will we descend together into the dust?"


• The Salvation
Bildad refuses to take the bait. Rather than try to find hope for the hopeless, he continues Eliphaz' tactic and tries to make a hopeless situation worse. He waxes eloquent on the tortures awaiting the blasphemer, perhaps unaware of the irony of threatening Job with what has already taken place. Nevertheless, the brutal attack of Bildad does strike home, and for the first time, Job sounds crushed by their words. He describes the pain of being deserted by all whom he loves: his friends, his servants, his brothers, even his wife. As with Eliphaz, he cries out, this time to his friends (19:21),


Have pity on me, my friends, have pity, for the hand of God has struck me. Why do you pursue me as God does? Will you never get enough of my flesh?

If in his previous speech, Job had addressed his cry to the incorruptible court, here he addresses fickle men. God needs no graven tablets to remember our words, it is people who so quickly forget. So Job cries out to his fellow humans that it is bad enough when the transcendant God rejects a man, but what excuse do his friends, his relatives, and his wife have for rejecting him? Don't they know the danger of kicking a man when he is down? Don't they know there is justice with God? He cannot control his emotions any longer, and forgetting irony he blurts out the certainty of his vindication.


Oh, that my words were recorded, that they were written on a scroll, that they were inscribed with an iron tool on lead, or engraved in rock forever! I know that my Redeemer lives, and that in the end he will stand upon the earth. And after my skin has been destroyed, yet in my flesh I will see God; I myself will see him with my own eyes--I, and not another. How my heart yearns within me! If you say, 'How we will hound him, since the root of the trouble lies in him,' you should fear the sword yourselves; for wrath will bring punishment by the sword, and then you will know that there is judgment.

There. He has said it. This is the certainty he felt through the vision, through the attacks and innuendo. If we are again to believe that Job hasn't lost touch with reality, then it appears that his advocate is also his redeemer. In the ancient middle east, the redeemer paid the court costs and penalty to deliver the accused from judgment. Not only is Job's advocate in heaven pleading before God, but he also stands upon the earth, delivering Job from the judgment of his friends. What is more, he will vindicate Job by means of the same punishment they had called down upon him.


• In Summary
So we see how Job understood his mysterious savior.
1. A defense lawyer/intercessor/witness in the divine court (16:19)
2. A (true) friend of Job's (16:20)
3. A Redeemer/vindicator in the human court (19:25)
4. A representative for/of God (19:26-27)
5. A male (19:25)
We could perhaps have further subdivided this list ten times, drawing meaning from every nuance. I have avoided such an approach because interpreting nuances requires far more presuppositions than I would like to defend. As it is, many people will find fault with the few inferences I have drawn. Let me begin with the last.


Male: Job uses the male pronoun when speaking of his friend. This does not, of course, require that the friend be male, some languages assign gender without respect to biology. Das Madchen, or little girl, is neuter in German, for example. However, Hebrew has no neuter, and generally speaking, if the pronoun refers to a person, the gender indicates the sex. It really isn't so surprising, since everyone mentioned in the court of Heaven has a masculine gender, whether or not it is appropriate to assign angels a gender. Perhaps the strongest conclusion we can draw is that this advocate is clearly not a woman, and if the advocate turns out to be human, then it is probable he is a man.

Redeemer: The language about this redeemer (go'el Job 19:26-27) is puzzling. I see three possibilities for his identity: a) he is the same person as the advocate of 16:19; b) he is a different person altogether; c) he is either God or a representative of God. Of course, if one accepts some level of contradiction, one can conflate any of these views together. Since this is clearly the most favorite and most controversial verse in Job, I will spend a bit longer addressing this topic. Bear in mind that I have no intention of resolving outstanding controversies, so my apparent negligence of the literature is intentional.

Could the advocate in heaven be different from the redeemer on earth? On first glance it seems highly likely, since the two locations are occupied by very different beings. On the other hand, we, the readers, are observers in both places, showing that some sort of relationship exists between the two. Satan, you recall, appears in heaven after roaming through the earth. So after some recollection, we really have no major objection to combining the advocate and the redeemer. In both literature and movies, there is a law of "conservation of characters", that one doesn't multiply characters unnecessarily, it makes the plot choppy and wastes time on introductions. So, for example, "Prince of Egypt" conflates Moses and Rameses II to be brothers (in complete violation of both history and scripture) to save time for plot development. Thus, one might argue on purely literary grounds that the writer of Job intended for these characters to be the same person. This decision does have logical consequences we explore next.

Since the advocate must be able to stand in the heavenly court, he could not be human, as Job himself states. On the other hand, the redeemer takes part in earthly judgement, and apparently, earthly vindication. Certainly angels can vindicate, but the role of go'el redeemer (see the book of Ruth) could only be accomplished by a human. One finds God referred to as redeemer elsewhere in the Psalms or Isaiah, but it seems derivative, as if the original word was established firmly by the Mosaic Law, and later prophets saw in God the attributes of a Mosaic redeemer. Thus our interpretation depends on the time period we place the authorship, but one can make a weak argument that there is an apparent contradiction in combining advocate and redeemer.

The next verse switches objects from redeemer to God. The implication is that the redeemer is God, in the usage of the prophets. If so, then our previous identification of the advocate now appears contradictory, for how can God be his own intercessor? Can the redeemer be the ambassador who represents God? It doesn't quite seem right, for who gets excited about seeing an ambassador. It seems that Job's complaint all along has been to see God. Then if the redeemer is God, he clearly cannot be the advocate of 16:19, and Job is expressing some sort of deep faith in God's vindication. That is, the advocate has won his case, and God has switched roles from judge to redeemer. Certainly much can be said for this third view.

Friend: Job refers to this advocate as his friend, which is amazing optimism from a man deserted by everyone else. In fact, his enthusiasm is only matched by his reference in 19:27 to seeing his redeemer. Recall that in 19:19 he has no friends left. So whoever this friend is, he is not included in Job's listing of his "intimate friends". Yet God has withdrawn himself. Nor can I imagine an angel as a friend. Whoever it is, remains a puzzle.

Advocate: We save the hardest puzzle for last. For Job has explained in searing clarity that no mere human could stand in the divine court to defend Job (9:13ff), which implies that the advocate is not of mortal flesh. Yet Job states (19:21) "on behalf of a man he pleads with God as a man pleads..." Inhuman, yet with human characteristics. Didn't we just say that the redeemer was probably God with human attributes? Is it likely that there are two divine characters, who evoke Job's gratitude, who possess human attributes, who are both male, but are not the same? We are tempted to conflate them again using Occam's Razor, but for the disturbing image of God pleading with himself, like a madman babbling on a park bench.




The Mystery, the Man

The resolution to these puzzles must come later, though the remaining dialogues give us little hope of finding the friend who isn't intimate, the divine advocate who understands humanity. Zophar continues Bildad's tactic and paints a picture of the judgement of the wicked that contains more than one zinger intended as pointed reminders of Job's condition. Job has tried irony with Eliphaz. He tried pathos with Bildad. Only after exhausting all literary and emotional approaches does Job fall back on cold logic. (Not exactly a modern approach!) He dissects Zophar's speech with unemotional logic. For the three friends to be correct, in equating earthly conditions with God's justice, there can be no exceptions. One counter-example will suffice to destroy this equation, which he presents.

Eliphaz is appalled. Job is arguing like a heathen! That does it, and Eliphaz takes off the gloves to defend God's honor. (22:4-5) Is it for your piety that he rebukes you and brings charges against you? Is not your wickedness great? Are not your sins endless? And Eliphaz launches into a long renumeration of Job's purported sins. Have you ever noticed, that when a wicked man rebukes, he always lists his own sins first? These may not be Job's vices, but they are most certainly Eliphaz'.

Job knows this, and saves his breath. There is no use defending himself from the sins of Eliphaz. Instead he cries out, "Where is my advocate, where is God when I need him?" (23:1-9)


Even today my complaint is bitter; his hand is heavy in spite of my groaning. If only I knew where to find him; if only I could go to his dwelling! I would state my case before him and fill my mouth with arguments. I would find out what he would answer me, and consider what he would say. Would he oppose me with great power? No, he would not press charges against me. There an upright man could present his case before him, and I would be delivered forever from my judge.
But if I go to the east, he is not there; if I go to the west, I do not find him. When he is at work in the north, I do not see him; when he turns to the south, I catch no glimpse of him.

And again, Job distinguishes himself from the godless by the nearly invisible, pure blue flame of his hope, as he adds softly,


But he knows the way that I take; when he has tested me, I will come forth as gold.

Then Job's faith burns bright, and his energy returns. He recaps his entire argument, carefully phrasing his argument as if for a legal brief. He describes his punishment, his righteousness, and his desire to talk to God as intimately as he had in the past. He also dismisses his accusers by posing the question, "Where does Wisdom come from?" After elaborating on the difficulty of obtaining wisdom, he ends, "The fear of the Lord, that is Wisdom, and to shun evil is understanding." Therefore, by implication, his accusers have not feared God, and thus invited evil. In these final chapters, we see a glimpse of the Job as he was before the fire; calm, sure, at peace with himself and with God. Job has laid his case out, called curses on himself if he has misrepresented the facts, and waits on God to act.

So Job's words end, full of faith, yet without vindication. The advocate had made a brief appearance but then vanishes, leaving Job without a clue as to his location. Far from discouraging Job, this absence becomes a rallying cry and Job's faith returns. How can this be? How can absence answer abandonment? The short answer is that it can't. Something else must have occurred between verses 8 and 9. And that something is as invisible as blue fire, as intangible as the wind, as powerful as strong wine. Despite his pain, his weakness, his sleepless nights, and his treacherous friends, Job's spirit returns.

Note carefully when this change occurs. It happens as Job stops searching the four corners of the earth for God, and resolves to wait. It happens when Job moves from subject to object, from actor to recipient. It is impossible to assign causality to the event, for the transition is not the cause of the spirit, nor is the spirit the cause of the transition. Rather they are both evidences of the other, they are seals of mutual sincerity, co-guarantees of the genuine. Thus the miraculous is always separated from the magical, for otherwise we would be in control, we who would naturally skip the intervening 20 chapters. No, it happened in the fullness of time, in ripening of argument, in the turn of the tides. As Job's eyes flash fire again, his tormentors marvel. It is to their credit that their speech grows short and they fall silent. Words may suffice for convincing the mind, but mere words cannot withstand the spirit.