Job
So I've been reading through the Bible in a year. Today I reached the end of Job.
It’s a fascinating book. And bemusing, too. My understanding of what it says has definitely changed over the years, and even now, I’m not completely sure what to make of it all—especially all of the words that Job’s friends say. But I recognize the truth in God’s words, and I recognize the importance of Job’s admission at the end of the encounter (42:1-6):
Then Job answered the LORD:
“I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted. ‘Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?’ Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know. ‘Hear, and I will speak; I will question you, and you declare to me.’ I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you; therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes.”

“Knowing one’s place” is far too simplistic and loaded a phrase to encapsulate what’s going on here; I don't think God is, as some think, bullying Job into submission. But perspective is key. As humans, we think of ourselves as the pinnacle of creation—more and more so with the continuing developments in technology and science—and so it’s almost unfathomable for us to think that we might be as nothing to ... well, anything at all.
But God is so far above, so high and holy, so awesome and wonderful, so majestic and glorious. There is no comparison. There is no comparison.
And you know what? This is a good way to start the day: to be reminded that, as NT Wright says, it’s not great faith we need to live truly, but faith in a great God. It's a freeing thought, too: that the weight of the world does not rest on our shoulders, that the responsibility and capacity for changing our lives, our situations, and our world does not come primarily from us, but from the Maker of the heavens and the earth, the Creator of the universe, the God who is above all and in all, and yet who calls us his own.
As Delirious? sings, "God is bigger than the air I breathe, the world we'll leave ..." ("My Glorious").
[image from Good News Bible]
Easter messages
If you're wanting to listen to one sermon series this Easter ...
... go listen to The District Church podcast.
I preached this past (Palm) Sunday, on expectations and reality--"What are you expecting?" And Aaron will be preaching this coming Sunday. (We'll have a Good Friday service tomorrow evening, but won't have recording capacity.)
But I also highly recommend this short series from John Ortberg and Menlo Park Presbyterian Church--"Friday, Saturday, Sunday." John's a pastor and author I respect greatly, and the first two messages of this series have really hit home for me. Go listen to 1) Friday and 2) Saturday.
To whom can we go?
Because of [Jesus’ words] many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him. So Jesus asked the twelve, “Do you also wish to go away?” Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.”
John 6:66-69.
Certain truths don’t change
A reminder for Monday morning:
certain truths remain unchanged: God remains sovereign, grace beats sin, prayers get heard, the Bible endures, heaven’s mercies spring up new every morning, the cross still testifies to the power of sacrificial love, the tomb is still empty, and the kingdom that Jesus announced is still expanding without needing to be bailed out by human efforts.
John Ortberg, The Me I Want To Be, 242
A word to Congress: “Whatsoever you do for the least of my brothers …”
Guess who said this:
I like talking about people who don't have any power. And it seems like some of the least powerful people in the United States are migrant workers who come and do our work but don't have any rights as a result. And yet we still invite them to come here, and at the same time ask them to leave. And that seems like an interesting contradiction to me. And, you know, whatsoever you do for the least of my brothers ... these seem like the least of our brothers, right now. And I know that a lot of people are the least of my brothers because the economy is so hard, and I don't want to take anyone's hardship away from them or diminish it or anything like that, but migrant workers suffer, and they have no rights.
If you're observant, you'll be able to glean from the video below that it wasn't an immigrant rights or social justice advocate, it wasn't a pastor or an organizer. This was Stephen Colbert, comedian and satirist, stepping briefly out of character while testifying before the House Judiciary Committee's Subcommittee on Immigration, Citizenship, Refugees, Border Security, and International Law.
And Colbert, a Catholic, answered the final question addressed to him by quoting Jesus in Matthew 25.