Job’s Village

I grew up on Air Force Bases, moving every few years. I went to lots of schools. Sometimes changing schools mid-year because we moved from off-base to on-base. I learned to make friends quickly, but I also learned to leave friends behind. One of the benefits of moving often is that if you somehow got a bad reputation—cheat, liar, wimp, whatever—in a few years you’d have a chance to start over. I contrast that with an employee in my company in a small-ish city. Other employees warned me about him because of things that happened in his younger days. He was no-good; he’d never be good at anything. In this town, the adage was true: people never change. It seemed to be true in his current position. After learning more about him—from him—we found a position that seemed better suited...and he thrived...and his reputation started to change.

Likewise, I recently watched a mini-documentary called Godspeed. It reminded me of this employee because one of the points of the documentary is that in a village, everyone knows everyone: the exceptional, the good, the bad, the ugly. It was true of Christ that everyone would know Him—not just of Him, but directly know Him—His mother, father, siblings, grandfather, grandmother, great-grandfather, etc. with all their virtues and warts. They would know that ‘the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree’ and that the sins of the father carry on for generations. If His reputation was blown, He would never recover. And this is the significance of “He grew in wisdom and stature in the eyes of God and men” in the single brief passage related to those years between His birth and His ministry.

Revisit the story of Job and focus on the three friends that are trying to get Job to confess to a great sin that would have caused God to punish him. First, they’re operating from the worldview that bad things are a result of God’s disfavor and a sign of punishment; this worldview also states that good things are a sign of God’s favor—as was true for most of the ancient world, and still true of our worldview today in many ways. Since they know Job’s virtues and warts, this punishment seems untoward, unusual, not deserved...therefore, there must be some great secret sin that warrants God’s great punishment. “Confess, Job,” they say, “and live.”

His reply: “I have nothing to confess. And yet you accuse me without any fear of the Almighty.” This last sentiment is an interesting one in that we are taught through Moses, as one of the great commandments, not to bear false witness—not to accuse— against another. His friends know him and yet wonder if he’s hiding a secret sin still. Somehow Job has grown up in this village with a different worldview of God. In this community, he has developed a different theology, contrary to his childhood and generational pressures.

And then we have God’s response. He’s angry with the friends and affirms that Job has spoken correctly about Him. Job’s worldview is accurate; his friends that he’s known his whole life and have a different worldview are not right.

And so this is an amazing aspect of Job’s story. He was a maverick in his village. He found a straight path that veered from the others. And in a village where there are no secrets, his friends assumed there must be when they look at the ‘evidence’ of Job’s circumstances. Today, we can have secrets because most of us live, work and worship in three different communities. Know one person really knows us. Job’s wife doesn’t accuse him. She doesn’t hint at a secret sin. In her own grief, she encourages him to just surrender to the inevitable as quickly as possible. How much do we hide from our spouses and other close family as well? How much do we reveal? For me to share a bit of feeling—fear, doubt—feels like a floodgate. And so I would struggle living in a village. You might too if you’re not willing to be vulnerable in your faith community.