A Bit About Me -- with thanks to my stepson, Devin Servis

Sunday, October 25, 2015

They Left Out A Verse! (Job Series: Part II)

Text:  Job 23:1-9, 16-17
Theme:  “They Left Out A Verse!”
20th Sunday after Pentecost
October 11, 2015
FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH
Denton, Texas
Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

+In the Name of Jesus+


Then Job replied:
2
“Even today my complaint is bitter;
his hand[a] is heavy in spite of[b] my groaning.
3
If only I knew where to find him;
if only I could go to his dwelling!
4
I would state my case before him
and fill my mouth with arguments.
5
I would find out what he would answer me,
and consider what he would say to me.
6
Would he vigorously oppose me?
No, he would not press charges against me.
7
There the upright can establish their innocence before him,
and there I would be delivered forever from my judge.
8
“But if I go to the east, he is not there;
if I go to the west, I do not find him.
9
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.
16
God has made my heart faint;
the Almighty has terrified me.
17
Yet I am not silenced by the darkness,
by the thick darkness that covers my face.

Following our time in God’s house this morning, the members, friends, and supporters of First Presbyterian have opportunity to gather for the stewardship lunch in Erwin Hall.  We’ll take a look at the resources we’ve been blessed with and take an educated glance at the future and the opportunities that are on the horizon.

Stewardship is what stewards do.  The word “steward” itself is as rich and substantive, linguistically, as some of the tasty stews we will sample for lunch.

A steward, essentially, was a manager of the house according to the New Testament Greek parlance.  He/she was in charge of the resources of the home or the business, and he/she determined how those resources were allocated and spent.  And yes, this included budgets and budgeting, debits and credits, planning and visioning.  Stewardship, in short, is this:  what you do with what you got!

What we got – or “what we have”, to be grammatically and linguistically correct – the church, historically, has divided into those three “T” words:  time, talent, and treasure.  Did you know that the birthday of this church is May 2nd?  Did you know that the year of birth was 1878?  For over one hundred thirty seven years, stewardship has happened here! FPC has been a hub for stewardship. People have invested their time, talent, and treasure for the cause of Jesus Christ, and First Presbyterian Church of Denton has been part of that conversation and investment. 

Last week, I began a four part series on the Old Testament book or Job.  We were introduced to the main character, Job, in last week’s sermon, and this week we’ll dig a bit deeper into what happened with him. 

To use a stewardship analogy, Job was a man who had vast amounts of talent and treasure.  He was a rich man in terms of what he owned and also in terms of human relationships.  He had a wonderful family:  seven sons and three daughters.  They were a happy family; they met regularly for family dinners.    By all accounts, he was a blessed and fortunate man.  The almighty God described Job as “blameless”, “upright”, “a man who fears God”, and “shuns evil.”  God said:  “There is no one on earth like him.”

But then Job lost nearly all that he had.  In the twinkling of an eye, as they say, his wealth, his servants, and his children were gone.  They were no more. 

As I’ve grown older and – please God! – a little wiser, I’ve learned that life isn’t so much about mergers and acquisitions; it’s about loss – and how loss is handled.   I like what the coach said in the movie, Any Given Sunday::  “When you get older, things get taken away from you.” 

 I’ve experienced loss in my life, and so have you.  But I’ve never experienced loss on a scale that Job did.  Never has there been a man who had so much that was reduced, so quickly, to having so little.  If the losses we experience are small and spaced out over time, then, okay, we can probably handle them with the spirit, mind, and body that we’ve been given.  But if like Job the losses are massive and come quickly, what then?  “Here’s that rainy day they told me about, and I laughed at the thought that it might turn out this way.  Funny how love becomes a cold, rainy day.  Funny, that rainy day is here.”

Here’s what happened with Job:  needless to say, he didn’t sing an old classic tune; he fell to the ground – not because he slipped and fell but because he desired to worship God.  Here was his prayer:  “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I will depart.  The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised.”  “In all of this,” the Scripture reports, “Job did not sin by charging God with wrongdoing.”

If a sermon from a pulpit were basically aimed at behavioral modification – a.k.a. getting people to behave differently, this would be the take off point. I can almost hear it now:  “God wants you to be like Job.  When life beats you into submission, don’t shake your finger at God as if it’s God’s fault.  Praise God instead.”  The minister then flashes a “Pepsodent” smile at you. (Sorry.  I can’t do that; I have braces on.  You’ll have to wait!)  At any rate, do you have problems with that sort of thinking?  I do.  Tell you what:  if I were sitting where you are and if I heard that coming from the pulpit, that minister would lose ALL credibility with me.  He or she might be a fine guy or gal, but, man alive, we’ve heard enough of this sort of mish-mash, tish-tosh, and gobbledygook coming from pulpits.

A wise prof told me that 90% of Christian sermons could be summed up in one sentence:  “May I suggest that you be better people?” Behavior modification.   Call me weird; call me an odd duck, or whatever; it’s okay with me.  I’m one of those goofballs who is curious about the other 10% of those sermons.  What do they say, if anything, over and above and beyond the suggestion to be a better person?  I’m interested in seeing whether they may – please God! – have some gospel, some good news, in them! 

What has God done?  What is God doing that I CANNOT DO FOR MYSELF?  Ask those sorts of questions and you’re really onto something!

When Moses came traipsing down Mt. Sinai, he wasn’t carrying tablets of stone that had on them the “Ten Suggestions”.  They were the Ten Commandments.  And after all these thousands of years since then, the chief purpose of those commandments has not changed.  Their job is not to make us better people.  “Through the Law,” declares the Bible, “we become conscious of our sin.”  The Ten Commandments show us that we’ve not kept them.  And again, from the Scriptures, “If you keep the whole law perfectly but stumble just once, you’re guilty of it all.”  The law kills; the Spirit gives life!  Here’s what it really comes to.  Here’s what is at stake:  are you going to be a Law person or a Gospel person?

We’ve got a case study right here in the book of Job.  The Law of God, in all its lethal efficiency, was doing a number on him.  The man was hanging on for dear life!  Besides his wife and three friends (all of which that gave him dubious and questionable advice [read the book; you’ll know]), everything else was gone.  His own physical health was up for grabs; he was afflicted with painful sores.  There was no narcotic, no prescription pain-killers, no IV drip with a pump for him.  He was a pitiful, incomprehensible demoralized, and dying mess.  But why?  What had he done? 

No answers were forthcoming.  God must have been on vacation – relaxing down in Cancun at an all-inclusive resort, lollygagging in Belize or some such place.  From Job’s standpoint, God was AWOL.

Last Sunday, we learned that one of the big questions emerging from the book of Job is “Why do bad things happen to good people?”  Today’s emergent question is this:  “What happens when every shred of evidence seems to tell you that God is gone or that God doesn’t even exist at all?”  Job truly prefigured Jesus Christ on His cross when the Savior said:  “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Job was dangling on that ledge between hell and higher ground.  He had one thing left, one thing:  his voice.  He declares:  “I am not silenced by the darkness.”

My friends, his voice still shouts down through the centuries to us this day.  Maybe you hear your own voice in his:

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 to me.

Would he vigorously oppose me?
No, he would not press charges against me.

Do you want more?  Try on Job 23:8-9:


“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 now, in conclusion, we encounter what I feel is one of the greatest mistakes the lectionary people have ever made.  They left out a verse. 

Job 23:10 is not part of the lectionary today.  They just plum left it out, snipped it right out of the text.  Without this one verse, I could argue that Job is a book about crying out to God in the darkness, over and over again, and hearing nothing in reply.  Folks, I’m holding out for more than that; I’m holding on for verse ten.  The lectionary people left it out.  But I’m a little bit of a rebel; I’m NOT going to leave it out. 

For verse after verse, Job has voiced his testimony.  He shares his experiences that include failed attempts at finding God.  But then, like a diamond in the rough, comes verse ten, the verse the lectionary committee omitted.  Shame on them!

It reads:  “But he (God) knows the way that I take; when has tested me, I will come forth as gold.”  For a blessed split-second, there is no more talk from Job’s mouth about what Job had done, was doing, or was planning to do.  In one short and precious verse, we get to the heart of the matter.  We get what God has done and is doing.  God knows the way I take.  After HE has tested me, I will come forth as gold!

Years and years later, late on a Thursday evening, Jesus of Nazareth knelt to the ground as Job did.  Out from His mouth came a prayer.  He asked God that the “cup” be taken from Him.  So intense was His anguish that His tears were as drops of blood.  Through His tears, He had one more thing to say:  “Nevertheless, not my will but Thine be done.”

Today, as people of faith, as stewards of the manifold gifts of God, we have an added gift, the gift the lectionary people left out.  No matter what we experience now, no matter what the future holds, we have Job 23:10 in our arsenal:  “God knows the way that we take.  After He has tested us, we shall come forth as gold.”


Amen.

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