My Dad loved the story of Job. I hated it.
My Dad was neither a biblical literalist nor an infalliblist, so he was free to read Job as myth and plumb its deeper meanings. For me, no matter how deep I dug, no matter how allegoricaly I read it, the meaning was always the same: The God it portrayed was a capricious, sadistic prick who used human beings as pawns.
I recall two things my Dad liked about the story. First, God was not satisfied with humans being righteous, as Job was. God wanted relationship with us. Second, he liked God’s response when Job finally has had enough and confronts God:
“Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation?
Tell me, if you understand.
Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know!
Who stretched a measuring line across it?
On what were its footings set,
or who laid its cornerstone—
while the morning stars sang together
and all the angels shouted for joy?
Basically, a reminder that God is beyond comprehension and we are pipsqueaks.
That’s a pretty cool quote, and I suppose the notion that God wants a real relationship with us is lovely. But I could never buy it. Relationship? It’s beyond abusive. And God’s lecture in chapter 38 seems antithetical to a real relationship. “I’m everything, you’re nothing. Let’s dance.”
No thanks, not for me.
What do you think? Love it or hate it, the book of Job was valued enough to endure for centuries and be canonized. What’s it trying to say? Does it succeed?