I love and hate the book of Job. I love it because it poses challenging pastoral questions--like being tested by God or God's tolerance for the devil--but I hate it because it challenges my understanding of what it means to have a pastoral spirit.
Most know Job's story. Satan approaches God for permission to test Job. God says, "Fine, just don't kill him." Job loses everything, including his wealth and his children. His wife tells him to curse God and die. And then, as if that weren't enough, he gets this weird skin disease and tries to scrape it off with broken pieces of a clay jar.
It is in this moment that his friends decide to pay him a visit. They spend a week with him, just being present with him, mourning with him, and providing for his needs--a great example of pastoral care. But after the week has passed, the real reason for their visit becomes apparent. They are there to help Job discover what he did wrong.
The audience knows Job hasn't done anything wrong. God actually considers Job to be blameless, righteous. But in chapter after chapter, Job goes back and forth with Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar. He adamantly argues that he did nothing wrong. And while Job's anger is expressed in truly poetic ways, he never curses God. Job's commitment to God does not change.
Source: Christianity Today / Out of Ur
Christopher Bernard is pastor for youth and families at St. James by-the-Sea Episcopal Church in La Jolla, California.


