Job and Abraham

If you were wondering why I would interrupt my Genesis study with a conversation about Job, it’s because we are journeying into Genesis 22: The Binding of Isaac.

Both passages are extremely difficult, and for very similar reasons. But also… they are linked: Extreme suffering, loss of everything… both stories leave the reader wondering if God is actually “good.”

Some will read the texts and escape the difficulty by leaning into a detached piety: “Our suffering is a part of God’s plan, so we can’t question it.” Others will try to make comparisons: “Our suffering is nothing compared to the reward that awaits us.”

Unfortunately, both views shy away from the actual experience of the one who is suffering.

Perhaps my least favorite view is those who actually BLAME Job and Abraham, as though the experience is meant to purify them.

The similarities between Job and Genesis 22 aren’t merely about grief or loss. There are other clues that link the story in very strange ways.

There was a man in the land of Uz whose name was Job; and that man was blameless, upright, fearing God and turning away from evil.
Job 1:1 (NASB)

Now it came about after these things, that Abraham was told, saying, “Behold, Milcah also has borne children to your brother Nahor: Uz his firstborn, Buz his brother, Kemuel (the father of Aram)
Genesis 22:20-21 (NASB)

Job is from the land of Uz. But Uz is also mentioned as a name in Genesis 22: Uz is the firstborn son of Abraham’s brother.

Prior to this, Uz is first mentioned as a name in Genesis 10 in the Table of Nations.

The sons of Shem were Elam, Asshur, Arpachshad, Lud, and Aram. The sons of Aram were Uz, Hul, Gether, and Mash.
Genesis 10:22-23 (NASB)

Noah -> Shem -> Aram -> Uz.

So the Land of Uz has a familial tie to Abraham, and the family appears to have kept the name. But it’s very interesting to see it here in Genesis 22.

So the rabbis look at this, and then look at how Genesis 22 begins and they wonder if the stories are more than coincidentally connected.

This is how Genesis 22 begins: וַיְהִי אַחַר הַדְּבָרִים הָאֵלֶּה. “It came to pass AFTER THESE THINGS…

This is very strange!

If you were a student, and you were given a reading assignment that started with “After these things…” you would immediately flip the paper over and wonder if you had missed something. After WHAT things?

So the rabbis do what you’d expect. They check the previous chapter.

And the previous chapter ends with “And Abraham stayed in the land of the Philistines for MANY DAYS.”

In fact, we know that between the end of Genesis 21 (where Isaac has just been weened, so… age 2?) and the beginning of Genesis 22, YEARS have passed. Not just days.

How many years? Enough years for Isaac to be strong enough to carry a load of wood for a sacrifice.

And Abraham took the wood for the burnt offering and laid it on his son Isaac, and he took in his hand the fire and the knife. So the two of them walked on together.
Genesis 22:6 (NASB)

The rabbis tend to agree that Isaac is either about 13 – the same age as Ishmael when Ishmael was circumcized, or he is about 37, depending on when Chapter 23 begins.

Remember – Sarah is old, and [SPOILER ALERT!] she’s going to die in chapter 23. And when Isaac get a bride, we have this verse that ties his mother’s death to the timing.

Then Isaac brought her into his mother Sarah’s tent, and he took Rebekah, and she became his wife, and he loved her; so Isaac was comforted after his mother’s death.
Genesis 24:67 (NASB)

So, Isaac is either 13 or 37, or somewhere in between. Either way, Genesis 21’s “many days” shows nothing of interest happening, so the rabbis and students scratch their heads at the meaning of “After these things.”

What could this be talking about?

The Midrash offers a story that further ties us to Job.

Perhaps “these things” are hidden from us. Maybe something happens in the heavenly court that results in God asking Abraham to sacrifice his son.

Maybe Satan approaches God here, like he does in Job.

So God says: “Have you considered my servant Abraham?”

Regarding Job, Satan says “He worships because you’ve blessed him and put a hedge of protection around him.”

Regarding Abraham, perhaps Satan says “He worships because you gave him a son.”

In both cases, he says: “take it away and see if he doesn’t curse you to your face.”

As I wrote in an earlier post about Job, the heavenly court isn’t necessarily literal. It shows us that God is not surprised by calamity. There is nothing God doesn’t know, and no adversity too great. That’s what we, the reader, are reminded.

But Abraham already knows this by now.

Abraham has met adversity, some of which was his own fault (deceiving Pharaoh and Abimelech), and some of it was not his fault (Abimelech’s men seizing Abe’s wells). At this point in the story, we should know that Abraham has gained an understanding of these things. That’s what his story has been so far.

So Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice Isaac is later explained by the writer of Hebrews as something Abraham was only willing to do because he BELIEVED God would raise up Isaac if Isaac died (Hebrews 11:17-19).

But this belief in God not actually killing (or perhaps resurrecting) Isaac is not a strictly Christian belief. Even the Jewish Midrash says something similar – that Abraham knew that both he and his son would come down the mountain. They point to Genesis 22:5.

Then Abraham said to his young men, “Stay here with the donkey, and I and the boy will go over there; and we will worship and return to you.
Genesis 22:5 (NASB)

Perhaps this knowledge is key to understanding this story.

In Job, we’re told about the heavenly court, and Job is NOT aware of it. He struggles with understanding and acceptance of what’s happening.

In Genesis 22, we’re NOT told about God’s plans or any heavenly court, but Abraham is aware of it in some way. We see him move forward as though he knows what’s going to happen next.

We see Abraham trust.

Thoughts on Job

I suspect that the story of Job is not meant to be understood as a story about an individual man, but as a story about humanity. And like much of scripture, it forces questions.

The question presented in Job is this: Suppose we lose everything. Why does this happen?

Early in the book, a short bit of text is dedicated to the conversation in the heavenly court, where God chats with “Satan,” or “The Adversary.” And while we are given a glimpse into the personification of this Adversary, perhaps the point is this: nothing happens that God does not allow.

In that regard, the writer is not telling us the inner workings of the heavenly court. The writer is simply locking in a presupposition of God’s authority, and prevents anyone from saying “perhaps God did not know,” or “perhaps God is weak against adversity.”

Simply stated, adversity (as personified by Satan) exists. We know this, and we must accept that God knows this. That’s our daily lived experience. But adversity isn’t greater than God. It can’t thwart God or run God out of the court of heaven.

But what if adversity is big? What if it’s monstrous? How big can it get?

So the author presents a story of a man who literally loses everything but his life. This is the greatest adversity imaginable, but we’ve already been told that adversity doesn’t surprise or knock God back. It exists within the framework of God’s authority. How can it not?

The next section of the book is a theological discussion about why. The friends represent different arguments about the causes of adversity, with the most repeated answer centering around a theme of “it’s our own fault.” It must be some hidden sin that Job has committed.

In the end, the writer (via Job, who is innocent) presents an argument that says “perhaps God should not have allowed this.” And it’s at this time that God finally responds, and He says this: “No. You do not, and simply cannot, understand why things happen.”

Then God rebukes Job’s friends. Or rather, God rebukes those arguments, because it was already established from the start that this calamity was not due to anything Job did.

The writer brings us to this conclusion: Terrible things happen. Sometimes, very terrible things happen. And sometimes, it isn’t your fault.

The tension is to continue to hold that God is just, and God is good, and God is sovereign.

And that God will make all things new one day.

No “God-forsaken” places

Genesis 1:2 introduces us to a word that we translate as “darkness.” The Hebrew word hints at misery, destruction, death.

The book in the Bible that uses this word more than any other is Job. Job uses this word twenty three times.

He knows darkness.

But Genesis 1:2 introduces us to another word. The “ruah” of God. The “Spirit” of God. The “Breath of God” that hovers over the same dark waters.

In the darkness, God is there, too. There are no God-forsaken places. No God-forsaken people.

Let there be Light.