Mark 10:35-45

Mark 10:35-45 (NRSV)

³⁵ James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came forward to him and said to him, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” ³⁶ And he said to them, “What is it you want me to do for you?” ³⁷ And they said to him, “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” ³⁸ But Jesus said to them, “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?” ³⁹ They replied, “We are able.” Then Jesus said to them, “The cup that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized; ⁴⁰ but to sit at my right hand or at my left is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared.”

⁴¹ When the ten heard this, they began to be angry with James and John. ⁴² So Jesus called them and said to them, “You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. ⁴³ But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, ⁴⁴ and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. ⁴⁵ For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.”

            Mark 10:35-45 offer some hard lessons regarding suffering as a follower of Jesus and on serving as the path toward genuine leadership. Nietzsche called Christianity a slave morality, meaning it as criticism. Was he right? 

             Mark 10:35-40 is a story about Jesus involving a request from James and John. The story is part of the third pattern, in which Jesus says he must suffer, die, and rise and from the dead (10:32-34). Mark then lets us know the disciples do not understand. 

            Scholars give a great deal of attention to the place of the twelve disciples in Mark. They consider the significance of various dimensions of their story, including their response to Jesus, their mission, their lack of understanding and finally their betrayal, flight and denial. Yet, we may find one key to understanding the significance of the disciples in one of the teachings of Jesus, concerning the parable of the sower. The disciples seem to be clear illustrations of the seed sown on “rocky ground” (Mark 4:5-6). The parable of the Sower tells the story of the failures and success of a sower scattering seed on four different types of ground: on the path, on rocky ground, among thorns and into good soil (4:3-9). Jesus later interprets these soils as representing four different types of hearers of the word (4:14-20). One might link the twelve disciples with the rocky ground, since they have accepted the word immediately, with great joy, but then have stumbled away when persecutions arise on account of the word (4:16-17). In fact, Simon’s new name, Peter — from the Greek Petro is not a sign of a firm foundation for the church, but might instead be a subtle dig at a hardhearted disciple. In Mark, Simon is called “rock” for the first time in chapter 3, and then in the very next chapter Jesus introduces the “rocky ground” in which the seed begins to grow and then fails during persecutions.[1]

            The link between the disciples and the rocky ground of the parable becomes stronger as the gospel story continues. The twelve repeatedly fail to comprehend the words of Jesus and emulate his actions as they demonstrate a lack of understanding after the feeding of the four thousand (8:21), as they challenge Jesus’ teachings about his suffering and death (8:32-33), and as they seek glory instead of suffering (10:35-45). This last “rocky ground response” is here, and it contains the failure of James and John to comprehend that both Jesus and his disciples are challenged to walk the path of sacrificial service.    

            This story follows on the heels of Jesus’ third passion prediction (10:32-34), as Jesus and the disciples are about to embark on their journey toward Jerusalem. Not even the clarity of Jesus’ message can break through the disciples’ rock-hard hearts and heads, however, as Mark 10:35-45 gives us another example of the disciples’ denseness. Their desire for authority, fame and glory makes it especially hard for them to hear Jesus’ message of suffering, rejection and death. If ever there were showcase examples of selective hearing, James and John's response to Jesus' revelation in 10:33‑34 takes the prize. In Mark 8-10, the gospel writer has Jesus and his disciples play out a similar exchange three separate times.  In 8:31, 9:30-32, and 10:33-34, Jesus articulates clear predictions of his approaching rejection, his debasement and death, and his resurrection from the dead.  Each of these passion predictions are then followed by some of the most ignorant, wrong-headed comments made anywhere by the disciples.  In 8:32-33 Peter rebukes Jesus; in 9:33-34 all the disciples start clamoring about who is the greatest; and in 10:35-41 James and John start queuing up for good seats in the hereafter.  In each case, Jesus responds to his disciples’ confused comments by discussing the true essence of missionary discipleship and explaining how it differences from all the disciples’ expectations.  In 8:34-38 Jesus counsels taking up the cross; in 9:35-37 selflessness and acceptance are touted; and finally in 10:42-45 Jesus explicitly identifies service to others as the key to genuine discipleship.  

³⁵ James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came forward to him and said to him, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” As it turns out, their desire to sit on Jesus’ right and left, strangely enough, echoes a precedent found in the extracanonical book of Jubilees. According to this legendary account, Jacob goes to visit his father Isaac. When Isaac sees his grandsons, he takes Levi in his right hand and Judah in his left hand, blesses them, and then they sleep beside their grandfather, one on the right and one on the left (Jubilees 31:5-32). At best, one might credit these disciples with echoing the final scene between Elijah and Elisha in II Kings 2:9 — there the soon-to-depart Elijah instructs his apprentice Elisha to “Tell me what I may do for you, before I am taken from you.” Yet even if that exchange is the inspiration behind James and John’s request, they overstep their bounds by initiating the asking. They are not to ask the Lord for the highest place (Ecclesiasticus 7:4). A proper attitude would be to ask how they have received such favor as to be counted the first witnesses to what God was doing in Jesus (Wisdom 5:5). Yet, as readers of this gospel, we cannot help but think of the question as a pitiful response to what Jesus has said about what will happen in Jerusalem.  ³⁶ He said to them, “What is it you want me to do for you?” Despite their misplaced boldness and presumptive rudeness, Jesus deals patiently with James and John. In a pathetic attempt at cleverness, these two disciples first try to charm a promise out of Jesus before revealing what is at issue. Jesus, of course, refuses to give blind assurances and forces them to articulate their desires plainly. Jesus mimics back to them without any hesitation. As if he was their servant!  ³⁷ Further, they said to him, “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” They may refer to the Messianic feast or to thrones in the kingdom.  It may reflect either the messianic or the apocalyptic notions prevalent in first-century Judaism. They perceive Jesus as Messiah. They may believe Jesus is about to reclaim the throne of David. Their squabbling over most honored seating may refer to the heavenly messianic banquet. Alternatively, the disciples' reference to Jesus’ being "in your glory" could also refer to the best seats in the house at the time of the Parousia, when the ruling Son of Man will judge all creation. In either case, the concern of James and John with securing a place with priority status when Jesus assumes his place in glory is a classic case of not understanding their situation. They failed to understand the teaching about Messianic suffering. This story will underscore how little the disciples comprehend the ministry of Jesus. He has just told them of the horror that waits in Jerusalem. True, the reference to himself as the Son of Man may have triggered thoughts of the glory associated with the coming Son of Man. Instead of focusing upon the suffering, they heard that after three days he would rise. The disciples envision only this image of a risen, powerful, ruling messianic Son of Man. They seem to gloss over the graphic details of an immediate future filled with condemnation, rejection, mocking, spitting, flogging, and execution. Their focus is their role in the coming rule of God. Their eagerness to have Jesus save them the best seats in the house suggests that James and John expected this eschatological moment to arrive very shortly after they finally entered Jerusalem.  Rather like a couple of 4‑year‑olds trying to obtain permission to do something they know is not quite right; the two first seek a carte blanche approval from Jesus. Even when the brothers fully disclose their brazen, selfish, Jesus does not chastise them about the content of their request. He sees it simply as a demonstration of their hardheaded incomprehension. ³⁸ However, Jesus said to them, “You do not know what you are asking. Jesus' sharp retort reveals the ignorance and arrogance of these two disciples. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink? "The cup" has a long tradition in Hebrew Scripture as the cup filled with divine wrath and judgment from which disobedient humanity must imbibe. The prophets often employed the image of "the cup" to threaten God's vengeance on leaders and peoples who opposed the ways of God. For Jesus, then, to drink of "the cup" is his voluntary swallowing of God's judgment for our sake. Jesus drinks the cup that was intended for us. Alternatively, are you able to receive baptism with the baptism that I am baptized with?”[2] The reference to baptism here, again interpreted in pre-Christian terms, parallels that of the cup. Instead of a Hebrew image, however, Jesus' words most likely recall the rites practiced by John the Baptist ‑‑ a "baptism of repentance." As a symbol of repentance, baptism, like the cup, links to the divine judgment that awaits human sinfulness. By participating in a repentant act of baptism, Jesus again took upon himself the judgment humanity deserved.  The question refers to his impending death.  Mark also knew that Herod Agrippa in Acts 12 had martyred James. Jesus’ reply invites them to consider whether they can face the cost of sharing in Jesus’ messianic suffering.  The saying means more than martyrdom.  Rather, the cup and baptism refer to the great tribulation that James and John would endure.  One might sense here the brash confidence of the disciples.  Obviously, neither James nor John has a clue about the nature of this cup and this baptism in which Jesus asks them to participate.  When Jesus quizzes James and John about the depth of their commitment, he turns their attention away from the reward they are seeking and focuses it back upon the path leading to Jerusalem. Asking if they can share in both his cup and his baptism, Jesus throws up a roadblock on what James and John perceive as an unmarred road to glory. The cup and baptism represent the suffering that Jesus and his obedient followers will have to endure. James and John misunderstand their calling and their destiny when they quickly assert that they, too, share these symbols of commitment with Jesus. They refuse to acknowledge the truth about the impending trip to Jerusalem, and envision instead an easy go-ahead journey, free from barricades and potholes. The story of Jesus’ passion is the starkly lit symbol of the cost discipleship entails — a painful red light on the road to Jesus’ glorification. Theologically, though, we cannot merely see here an obscure allusion to the approaching path of suffering for Jesus. We must relate the images to his understanding of the baptism he received from John. Jesus linked his baptism by John to the expectation of approaching martyrdom. Only after passing through this baptism can he kindle fire on the earth. This will eventually lead to the teaching of Paul that baptism involves participation in the death and resurrection of Jesus. The idea of a baptism of blood rests on transferring the baptism of John for repentance to martyrdom. Jesus was already seeing the approaching martyrdom of himself and his disciples in the context of the water baptism he had received form John. If so, then we can understand that along with the idea of a baptism of blood for martyrs, water baptism as adopted by early Christianity had a new meaning that it appropriated from Jesus. Yet, only from the standpoint of the Easter event did the death of Jesus represent a saving event. Only then could fellowship with the death of Jesus as a martyr that grounds itself in the act of baptism count as a pledge of future salvation for the baptized and the hope of participation in the life of the risen Lord.[3] ³⁹ They replied, “We are able.” Their answer exudes ill-advised confidence; but it also indicates that they have not actually understood Jesus. Such unhesitating willingness reveals how little they understood the personal cost that lies behind these channels to the divine. Then Jesus said to them, “The cup that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized; To remain true to the setting of this text, we must remind ourselves that the "cup" and "baptism" held different meanings for the disciples than they would later for the communities of post‑Resurrection Christians. For the church, the cup and baptism clearly spoke about two channels of individual and communal participation in the sufferings, even the "dying" of Christ. By the second century, baptism became the symbol of the ultimate sacrifice offered by Christian martyrs. Nevertheless, for James and John, these symbols were more generally suggestive of the suffering and persecution they could expect to encounter as disciples of Jesus and the gospel.⁴⁰ However, to sit at my right hand or at my left is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom God has been preparing.”[4] God is preparing the persons now to occupy that position. Jesus welcomes his ignorant disciples’ communion in his sacrifice — but then reveals to James and John that what they seek is not his to give. Jesus refuses to condemn the self-centered nature of James and John’s request. He does not berate them for their status-seeking. Instead, he suggests that the path that leads to such exalted positions is one they may not have considered closely enough. The reason he gives for denying their wish is surprising. The vision of Jesus has its limit. As a man, as a man he cannot see the whole picture of God’s plan for salvation. Note that the passion described in verse 34 does not mention how he will die, only that someone will kill him.  Jesus thus assures James and John that they may freely choose to participate in his suffering (the cup and his baptism) with the assurance of a place in glory, but like him, they must demonstrate obedience to suffering based on faith, not definite knowledge. Jesus refuses to discuss further any future heavenly seating arrangements. He reminds them that God alone holds the authority to make such assignments. By refusing to usurp any divine prerogative, Jesus demonstrates his own obedience to God, thus opening the door to yet another conversation about the proper roles and attitudes of true believers. All the disciples evidently need to hear this discussion repeatedly. James and John's request angers the other disciples, evidencing their fear that the two had somehow beaten them to the punch and gained some heavenly advantage over them.

 

Mark 10:41-45 is a collection of sayings on leadership with service. Still part of the third pattern, after the prophecy that Jesus will suffer, die, and rise again (10:32-34), and showing that the disciples do not understand (10:35-40), Mark now has speaking directly about discipleship. 

At about the moment an outbreak of self‑serving ambition and rivalry seems to tear apart the twelve, Jesus repeats the theme of servanthood he had tried, apparently unsuccessfully, to introduce in 9:35. Jesus responds to his disciples’ confused comments by discussing the true essence of missionary discipleship and explaining how it differences from all the disciples’ expectations. Jesus explicitly identifies service to others as the key to genuine discipleship.  

⁴¹ When the ten heard this, they began to be angry with James and John. The dialogue expands to include all the disciples. Mark does not elaborate upon the “indignation” of the other disciples at James and John’s request. The reader’s discretion and generosity of spirit lead us to surmise whether the other 10 are indignant at the foolish, self-serving, unperceiving nature of the brothers’ request, or indignant that James and John have gotten their names in first on the list for the coveted position at Jesus’ right and left hands. ⁴² Consequently, Jesus called them and said to them, “You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. ⁴³ But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, ⁴⁴ and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. Turning to all of his disciples, Jesus now elaborates more fully on what following him requires of them. Sharing in the two symbols of the cup and baptism does not mean riding on the coattails of Jesus’ impending glorification. Instead, verses 43-44 reveal that being a true disciple means a life (and death) committed to humility and service. Jesus’ message to his disciples is that even as he came to serve, so much more should they be servants for the sake of others and of the gospel. The tack Jesus now takes seems almost like an attempt to "shame" his followers into a better understanding of their discipleship. You are acting like Gentiles, Jesus admonishes. Jesus appeals to his followers to sense the essence of their uniqueness by contrasting them with Gentiles.  Jesus describes Gentile rulers as tyrants.  The disciples of Jesus who wish to be great must consign themselves to being servants.  The very highest status, in fact, will be according one who becomes slave of all.  The Son of Man, not Gentile rulers, is the one whom the disciples are to emulate — living to serve rather than having others serve them. The "Gentiles" that would most naturally spring to the disciples' minds would be the petty tyrants and bullies they knew so well and despised so deeply from Roman political life (such as Tiberius and Herod Philip).

In contrast to mimicking these Gentiles, Jesus offers his disciples a new way, a cross channel, if you will, to true discipleship. Standing common understanding on its head, Jesus declares that it is only in service that one may become great. The more lowly and servantlike the service, Jesus suggests, the greater the genuine stature of the disciple.  In the context of the order of the community, its character is that of a law of service. The law of service must always be law within an order of ministry. Privilege, claim, and dignity exist under the duty, obligation, and burden of service. ^[5]

The German philosopher, Nietzsche, called Christianity a “slave morality.” He noted that Christianity appeared to be most popular among people on the bottom of society – the poor, women, slaves. He charged that Christianity gave philosophical justification and glorification for the economic plight of those on the bottom. It taught them, said Nietzsche, that there is something good and noble in being people at the bottom. He noted that Jesus did not seem to have many friends at the top, powerful political people who made a difference in the world.

Nietzsche meant all this as a criticism. This story suggests that Christians ought to take this as a compliment.

            I invite you to ponder with me arrogance and humility. Frank Lloyd Wright said that early in life he to choose between honest arrogance and hypocritical humility. He chose the former and saw no reason to change. John Wooden once noted that talent is a gift from God, so be humble. Fame is something we receive from people, so be grateful. However, conceit is something you give to yourself, so be careful. 

Two quotations:

"I want everyone to bear witness, I am the greatest! I'm the greatest thing that ever lived. I don't have a mark on my face, and I upset Sonny Liston, and I just turned twenty-two years old. I must be the greatest. I showed the world. I talk to God everyday. I know the real God. I shook up the world; I'm the king of the world. You must listen to me. I am the greatest! I can't be beat!"

 

"Wouldn't it be a beautiful world if just 10 percent of the people who believe in the power of love would compete with one another to see who could do the most good for the most people?"

 

The two statements could hardly be more different. Yet, ironically, the same person who spoke them both: the legendary boxer, Muhammad Ali.

The first is Ali's boyish bluster from 1964, just after he defeated Sonny Liston for the first time. The second is something he wrote in his autobiography, The Soul of a Butterfly, in 2004. Forty years separate the two quotations. Forty years of living. A lot can change in half a lifetime.

Another quotation by Ali explains it: "The man who views the world at 50 the same as he did at 20 has just wasted the last 30 years of his life." Afflicted by Parkinson's disease since 1984 -- a condition likely brought on by the pummeling his body received in the ring -- Ali has been busy, until this year, as a global good-will ambassador, peace activist and advocate for the developing world. By one estimate, he has provided over 232 million meals to feed the hungry. 

When I saw him early in his career, I must confess that I liked him. I do not know why. The bragging and cockiness that made him hated I found a way to excuse. Of course, I was in my early teens at the time. His career in boxing was the only time in my life I had any interest in boxing. He seemed unbeatable. Of course, when he was beat, I kept thinking during the boxing match that he would pull it out in the end. I guess I bought into the illusion he had created.

To his credit, Ali's idea of greatness appears to have changed over time. Maybe we can expand the conversation on greatness.

History is full of men and women whom it remembers as "the Great," although they all had their weaknesses and blind spots. Alexander the Great was the Macedonian king and general who took control of the vast Persian Empire in the 4th century B.C. Tutored by Aristotle, he went on to achieve an undefeated record in military battles. Yet, Alexander was not invincible -- a lowly mosquito probably brought him down. Evidence suggests that he died of malaria at age 32.

How about Catherine the Great? She was the empress who ruled Russia from 1762 to 1796. Her greatness arose from her desire to modernize and expand Russia's holdings, as well as her creation of the country's first school for girls. Nevertheless, Catherine was not as powerful as she thought. Her rise to domination came only after her lover led a coup to depose her husband.

Another mighty ruler was Ramses the Great, Egyptian pharaoh from 1279 to 1213 B.C., who built cities, temples and monuments. The Bible does not portray him as so righteous, however. He was likely the pharaoh who enslaved the Israelites and caused Moses to lead the exodus out of Egypt.

History teaches that greatness often links with a life of illusion, one that causes people to believe that they are more invincible, powerful and righteous than they really are. Alexander was vulnerable to a mosquito, Catherine owed her power to a coup, and Ramses was unrighteous. All were "the Great," but not the greatest.

Whom would you add to the list of people in our culture who might consider themselves “great?” The problem with looking at yourself as “great” is that you live with an illusion. One illusion concerns your view of you! You are vulnerable and weak in ways you might not want to admit. You may also not realize what true greatness is.

Albert Schweitzer said, “Life becomes harder for us when we live for others, but it also becomes richer and happier.” 

I slept and dreamt that life was Joy;

Then I awoke and realized

that life was Service.

And then I went to work — and, lo

and behold I discovered that

Service is Joy.[6]

 

In a spiritual community, no leader gets privilege. With the possible exception of pastors at church potlucks, no leader gets an easy pass; no leader cuts the line; no leader gets in first or takes the best seat. Whoever wants to be a leader among you must be a servant to all the rest. A true spiritual leader serves first, and by serving leads ... through example. 

One does not generally become a leader by fighting the way to the top. One becomes a leader by helping others to the top. Helping employees is as important as trying to get the most out of them.[7] Such leaders do not run away from their calling in life. Abraham Maslow coined the phrase “the Jonah Complex” to describe the person clearly called in a certain direction in their lives, but do everything they can to avoid it. 

⁴⁵ For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.”[8] The structure is synonymous parallelism. “Ransom” means deliverance by purchase.  It describes an act of redemption.  “For many” refers to receiving a benefit that they cannot effect.  “Many” in Christian tradition focused on a universal understanding, rather than limiting it to expiation for the Jewish people.^[9] The effect of Jesus’ life of service and giving of himself goes beyond example.  A single, all-embracing figure in whom all the themes of sin, repentance, redemption, and vindication come together.[10]  Note the link of lutron with Daniel 7 and Isaiah 53.  The statement relates to the notion of the death of Jesus “for us” and “for our sins.” The motif of expiation seems present. The image of ransom is that Jesus Christ paid by his death for us.^[11] Not “sin offering” but God acting to deliver from slavery and bring to freedom.  Thus, the text is not a proof text for substitutionary theory of atonement. One who gives his life a ransom for many acts in the place and as the representative of many, paying on their account but without their cooperation what they cannot pay for themselves.^[12]Jesus may have reckoned with the possibility of an approaching violent death, even if this does not mean that he willed or provoked this violent death. It becomes quite another matter as to whether Jesus proclaimed his death a ransom for many or as an expiatory death. If Jesus actually said that his death had an expiatory function, one would expect that the early church would have decided the meaning of his death authoritatively and unequivocally.^[13]

Jesus reminds his disciples that the Son of Man himself offers the greatest example of this paradoxical relationship between servanthood and greatness. Yes, Jesus was the man for others. Jesus lets his life be for those in infinite peril. He makes the deliverance of humanity his exclusive task. His encouragement for his followers to be servant of all arises from the man who is the chief servant.^[14]

The Son of Man willingly becomes a slave, even to death, in order to serve, indeed to save, the world. In cross channels to the world, the channel of the cross leads heavenward. It is only after Jesus’ death and resurrection that these followers fully grasp this message, and shift from being rocky-ground disciples to examples of the “good soil” in which the word can grow and bear incredible fruit (4:8).

---

[1] (Mary Ann Tolbert, “How the gospel of Mark builds character,” Interpretation, October 1993, 352-353.)

[2] Jesus does not necessarily prophecy martyrdom. Yet, for some scholars, Christian theological meaning colors Jesus’ question about his cup and baptism, from the post-Easter perspective of Mark.  Most historical‑critical exegesis analyzes these images in strict accordance with their pre‑Christian understandings. 

[3] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 280-3.

[4] The idea that Jesus does not assign positions in the kingdom would hardly be something the early church would create.

[5] Barth, Church Dogmatics IV.2 [67.4] 690-1.

[6] Rabindanath Tagore.

[7] —William Cohen, The stuff of heroes: The Eight Universal Laws of Leadership, quoted on the Trinity Western University Web site, twu.ca/Leadership/sl_quotes.asp.

[8] Many view the phrase as Pauline, but Taylor rejects this.  It is not Pauline because here the vision is for the covenant people, not universal.

[9] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 424-5.

[10] C. S. Mann

[11] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 418. 

[12] Barth, Church Dogmaitcs IV.1 [59.2] 230.

[13] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 416-7.

[14] Barth, Church Dogmatics III.2 [45.1] 214-5.

Hebrews 5:1-10

Hebrews 5:1-10 (NRSV)

5 Every high priest chosen from among mortals is put in charge of things pertaining to God on their behalf, to offer gifts and sacrifices for sins. ² He is able to deal gently with the ignorant and wayward, since he himself is subject to weakness; ³ and because of this he must offer sacrifice for his own sins as well as for those of the people. ⁴ And one does not presume to take this honor, but takes it only when called by God, just as Aaron was.

⁵ So also Christ did not glorify himself in becoming a high priest, but was appointed by the one who said to him,

“You are my Son,

today I have begotten you”;

⁶ as he says also in another place,

“You are a priest forever,

according to the order of Melchizedek.”

⁷ In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to the one who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission. ⁸ Although he was a Son, he learned obedience through what he suffered; ⁹ and having been made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him, ¹⁰ having been designated by God a high priest according to the order of Melchizedek.

Hebrews 5: 1-10 form an introduction to 5:1-10:39, introducing Jesus as high priest. The author has organized the section well, showing Jesus to be the one who meets the qualifications of being high priest. These verses display a tight unity.  The author intends to first show that although Jesus is not of Levitical descent, he was indeed a high priest, one like us, who bears out infirmities, weaknesses, and petitions before God.  The theme of Hebrews 5:1-10 is that God appointed Jesus and Jesus perfected that appointment through obedience. The work and calling of the high priest provide a background against which the author develops the notion of the high priesthood of Christ.

Here is a brief summary of the points the author makes in verses 1-10. First, Christ is not a self-appointed priest, but the one designated by God.  Second, Christ has fully identified with human weaknesses.  The first connection is that the prayers of Jesus as he faced death bear the marks of loud cries and tears. Jesus cried and God heard him. The author promises nothing more nor less for us as well. Third, the high priest becomes the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him.  Jesus becomes a model for the readers.

Every high priest chosen from among mortals is put in charge of things pertaining to God on their behalf, to offer gifts and sacrifices for sins. It refers to the sin offering as well as the guilt offering. One can read of the office of priestly sacrifice in Leviticus 1 (burnt offerings), 4 (sin offering for the priests, Israel, king, and the rest of the people), and 9 (inauguration of the priesthood of Aaron). In this verse, the author offers a textbook definition of what a high priest does. ² He is able to deal gently with the ignorant and wayward, since he himself is subject to weakness. Priests have understanding toward people who have made mistakes, since he has made them as well. Priests are in solidarity with the rest of the community before God. The priest shares in the general weakness of the people of God. ³ Because of this, he must offer sacrifice for his own sins as well as for those of the people. Thus, in Leviticus 4:3-12, the priest is the one who has sinned and needs to present his offering upon the altar. On the Day of Atonement, the priest offers a sacrifice for himself and his family and then offers a sacrifice for the people.[1]  ⁴ Further, one does not presume to take this honor, but takes it only when called by God, just as Aaron was. God called Aaron and his sons, Nadab, Abihu, Eleazar, and Ithamar, from among the people of Israel to serve God as priests (Exodus 28:1). Thus, they did not acquire the priesthood by achievement, but by divine appointment. The author will make the connection with Aaron rather than Moses, which in this part of the book will receive full development.

In Hebrews 5: 5-6, in Israel, the office of priest and king were separate persons.  In the period between the Old and New Testament, priest and ruler often were together, especially during the Hasmonean period, around 140 BC. Many identified the Hasmonean leader with Psalm 110. The author will unite king and priest here. Yet, he does so in a way that challenges us. Human beings admire mastery. A religion that admits that life is inevitably tragic will lose out in the minds of many. Therefore, ⁵ Christ also did not glorify himself in becoming a high priest, but God appointed him, as the one who said to him in Psalm 2:7, referred in in Hebrews 1:5 as well, "You are my Son, today I have begotten you." The point is that God has appointed priests, so also God has appointed Christ. The author declares this quote is from God speaking to Jesus about his sonship. Luke will use it to refer to the baptism of Jesus, while this author uses it to refer to the installation of Jesus as high priest. In Hebrews 1:5, the citation illustrates that Jesus is higher than the angels are, for God never called an angel, Son. Historically, the psalm was part of the ritual sung at the coronation of an Israelite king. However, early Christians seem to interpret it as messianic in describing the status of Jesus as Son, which is how the author of Hebrews uses it.[2]  The author utilizes the quote here to say that the same God, who designated Jesus as Son, has now also appointed him as high priest. Some scholars believe that a noticeable shift occurs in chapter 5 because until chapter 5 the author has concentrated primarily on presenting Christ as Son. Yet from 5:6 onward, the author changes the focus to Christ's priesthood.[3] Thus, ⁶ as he says also in another place, Psalm 110:4, "You are a priest forever, according to the order kata thn taxin of Melchizedek." This quote serves to describe the priesthood of Christ. Once again, God is speaking to Christ. We as readers overhear the pronouncement by God to the Christ of his eternal priesthood. Scholars debate as to what Christ as the priest “after or according to the order" of Melchizedek actually means. While the author uses both Genesis 14 and Psalm 110:4, the author only uses Genesis to describe what a priest "after the order" of Melchizedek signifies, which is a "king-priest who does not come from a Levitical genealogy and whose office as priest does not end."[4] Here is the point. Only the fact that he is Son qualifies Christ to be high priest for us all.

 In Hebrews 5: 7-10, the author wishes to prove that Jesus Christ has the necessary qualifications for high priest. ⁷ In the days of his flesh en taiz hmeraiz thz sarkoz autau. Interestingly, the author moves from the eternal priesthood of Christ to describe the days of Jesus on Earth. Here, the author appears to place in juxtaposition the eternal and fleshly, as well as the finite and infinite, but in actuality, the author provides evidence of the priestly activity of Christ. Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to the one who was able to save him from death, and God heard him because of his reverent submission. The similarity of this passage with Psalm 116:1-8 is suggestive. The Psalmist speaks of his love for the Lord, who heard his cry for mercy, even as the cords of death entangled him and the anguish of the grave overcame him. He called upon the Lord to save him. He invites his soul to return to its rest, for the Lord has been good, delivering him from death, his eyes from tears, and his feet from stumbling. All of this is in order that he may walk before the Lord in the land of the living. None of this similarity with the Psalm diminishes the obvious allusion to Gethsemane. God heard him because Jesus offered to God respect and devotion. The prayer of Jesus in Gethsemane was a prayer of total submission to the will of the Father. We can see this connection in the presentation by Matthew. Jesus throws himself on the ground and prays that his Father, if possible, will let the cup pass from him. Yet, he submits to whatever the Father wants (Matthew 26:39). He submits to drinking the cup so that he will do the will of the Father (Matthew 26:42).[5] This language illustrates the humanity of Jesus in that he was and is able to sympathize and intercede for those suffering. The author said earlier that we have a high priest who is touched by the feelings of our infirmities (Hebrews 4:15).  While the author does not explicitly tell us what Jesus requested in his prayers and supplications, the language suggests the agony of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane and his cries for deliverance from death. He experienced distress and agitation and admits his grief. He prays for the passing of this hour, as he faces death. Yet, he also wants the will of the Father. The hour has come for his betrayal to death (Mark 14:32-43).[6] In a passage of questionable authenticity, but part of the tradition, an angel came to Jesus and gave him strength. His prayer had profound anguish, so much so that he sweat looked like great drops of blood fall to the ground (Luke 22:40, 43-44).[7] He felt deeply his troubled soul. Yet, should he ask the Father to save him from this hour? No, for this hour of his death is the reason the Father sent him (John 12:27).[8] Yet, the one who could save him from death instead delivered him out of death by resurrection. It was not the purpose of God to save Jesus from dying.[9] Thus, God heard the prayer of Jesus ultimately in that God delivered him from death through resurrection (5:7). The author may have written the creed simply based on the suffering of Jesus, without an allusion to Gethsemane, but it is more likely he was aware of that story.

In Hebrews 5: 8-9, we find a second confessional statement associating Jesus with the suffering servant of II Isaiah.  While II Isaiah refers to Israel this author refers to Jesus. ⁸ Although he was a Son, he learned obedience through what he suffered. In Greek, this is a word play on emathen/epathen. The Bible nowhere attempts to describe this learning. The point of the learning is the affirmation of the sinless quality of the life of Jesus. Jesus lived with the fallen condition of humanity. He lived and bore it as the Son. Yes, he wrestled with the fallen condition of his humanity, learning and struggling, yet, as the Son, God had to win in his life choices. In that sense, Jesus struggled as we all do to do the will of God. The Son is one with us all in that struggled. Yet, he made his life choices perfectly.[10] Christ maintained his perfection in freedom in a way that was not by any means self-evident. In his acts, he was without sin. He was perfectly obedient.[11] The statement that Jesus learned obedience seems to contradict his earlier statement in 4:15 in which he says Jesus sinless. Yet, most of us must admit that our best learning about life often comes through the greatest difficulties we have faced. Thus, one practices authentic obedience in particular situations. Jesus demonstrated obedience as life placed him situations in which doing the will of God and obedience confronted challenges from the people and institutions around him. Jesus was never disobedient to the will of God. He had unfailing constancy in obedience to the will of God. Yet, Jesus encountered new situations that challenged his faithfulness to God.[12] Here the author holds Jesus up as a model for his audience and helps them see their own plight differently. He reached a new level in the experience of obedience, fulfilling the plan of God through his death. Thus, Paul could say that the Son humbled himself, becoming obedient to the people of death upon a cross (Philippians 2:8). In John, Jesus sanctifies himself so that God may sanctify his followers in truth (John 17:19).  Life in this world tests the followers of Jesus, in a way that God will bring them to glory as well (2:10), and just as God brought Jesus out of suffering to glory, God will likewise bring them out of suffering to glory, too. In addition, Jesus ⁹ had life challenges that made him perfect teleiwqeiz. The aorist passive participle form of teleiow appears. It suggests the sense of completeness rather than an absolute standard. It suggests reaching the goal or destiny of his life as high priest. His suffering leads to his "perfection" in that sense. The reference to when the challenges of life perfected Jesus is to perfecting his office of priest and victim. While human perfection does have a moral feature, including the cleansing of one's conscience (10:1-2), Christ's perfection has no moral component since he has no sin. Perfection for Christ entails demonstrating appropriate obedience on Earth (5:7), suffering for humanity (2:10; 5:9) and being exalted to the right hand of God (7:28). Therefore, perfection for Christ means that he has "successfully completed the human experience" and God exalted him to glory.[13] The perfecting of Christ means that he can now be the Savior and high priest for all who obey him.

            This passage has become important in dealing with the difficult modern task of the development of Christology in the New Testament. Jesus accepted the consequences of obedience to the mission God gave him. Only in his completed life is he the Son, for his suffering perfect him as the Son. He learned obedience in the school of suffering, which should remind us of the Gethsemane prayer.  One must not limit the notion of incarnation to his birth. If other things did not happen, such as his baptism, his proclamation of the rule of God, the path of suffering, and his resurrection, he would not be the Son. The statement gives expression to the tension between learning obedience in time to be the eternal Son. The status of sonship and obedience to the Father go together. Obedient subordination to the Father characterizes Jesus as the Son. Further, obedience by Jesus finds expression in the ministry of Jesus to others by bringing to them the salvation of the reign of God, as well as his self-offering of Jesus as a sacrifice to the Father.[14]  The suffering of Jesus is not a destiny that causes the one afflicted by it to grow and mature. When the Son suffers, God has willed it, because it seemed right to God. These few words embrace the whole path of the Son. They state that Jesus honors God as his Father, entrusts himself to God, confident that God will give him the office and dignity that God wills. The point of “learned” here is that he learned from Scripture. The saying is a witness to the obedience that marked the Son. Yet, the notion of the development of Jesus is out of the question, whether moral growth or a developing maturity in Jesus for the fulfillment of his task. Such conclusions are the error of idealism. It points to the paradox that the Son is the one who suffers. Suffering, not learning, brings the Son to the goal appointed for him by God. The Word of God causes Jesus to accept suffering.[15]

In particular, Christ became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him. These verses are like a confession of faith. The emphasis is on the humanity of Christ. A priest must be human since he represents human beings. He must share their sufferings since he must feel compassion for them. Jesus suffered in this way all through his life on earth, and especially in his agony and death. Just as Christ learned through obedience, obedience becomes a central element for those who follow him. The writer's words in describing Christ in 5:5-10 may suggest a contrast between Christ and Adam, whose disobedience ushered in death and not life, destruction and not salvation.[16]

The segment closes with a reiteration of Christ's eternal priesthood in the order of Melchizedek. Some scholars think this verse continues the second confession of faith in verses 8-9. Buchannan (Anchor Bible Commentary) treats it as an editorial comment by the author, and that is how I am treating it.  Qumran identifies the Messiah with Melchizedek.  ¹⁰ God has designated him as a high priest according to the order kata thn taxin of Melchizedek.  We get a greater understanding of the role Melchizedek plays in the theology of Hebrews, which assists in our understanding of Melchizedek in chapter 5. He compares the eternality of Christ's priesthood to that of Melchizedek who is "without father, without mother, without genealogy, neither having beginning of days nor end of life" (Hebrews 7:3). It is important to remember that this statement is about Melchizedek's priesthood, not his actual person and that the author of Hebrews is engaging in an interpretation of Genesis 14, not the historical person Melchizedek.[17] The Genesis text is silent about Melchizedek's parentage, priestly origins, birth and death. The absence of information about Melchizedek in these matters permit the author of Hebrews to engage in a Jewish exegetical technique called non in thora non in mundo (literally, "If it is not in the law, it does not exist.") which means if the text is silent about something, then it could be considered nonexistent. Thus, the silence presents an opportunity for the author to interpret Christ's priesthood as one that is “after the order” of Melchizedek -- Jesus is a priest who has no "priestly lineage, no point at which he takes over from another priest or surrenders his office to someone who will succeed him.[18] More importantly, a priest after the order of Melchizedek does not die since Genesis does not narrate the death of Melchizedek. Thus, the narrative of Melchizedek provides an interpretive frame for Christ. Christ, like Melchizedek, has no Levitical lineage. Christ is eternal and, therefore, so is his priestly service, forever interceding for believers (7:24). According to the author, God uses Scripture to foreshadow Christ.[19]

            Of all the Christological roles in the New Testament, none should be more immediately relevant to the human situation than high priest should.  Since we do not bump into high priests every day, a sermon on the high priestly Christology of Hebrews may require a certain teaching dimension to get listeners aboard, but the force and clarity of the image are powerful.  A priest is one who handles the holy mysteries of God for the rest of us, one who prays, who leads us in worship.  Priests are mediators between humanity and God.  Rather than lord over the lowly laity, in the manner of some priests, Jesus the great high priest suffered.  He learned his priestly duties through obedient suffering.  When Jesus speaks in our behalf to God, Jesus personally knows that of which he speaks.  He is the one who was priest, not through his grasping for priestly glory, but rather in what he endured in behalf of those whom he came to save.

---

[1] Then Moses said to Aaron, "Draw near to the altar and sacrifice your sin offering and your burnt offering, and make atonement for yourself and for the people; and sacrifice the offering of the people, and make atonement for them; as the Lord has commanded." (Leviticus 9:7)

Aaron shall offer the bull as a sin offering for himself, and shall make atonement for himself and for his house. (Leviticus 16:6)

Then bring near to you your brother Aaron, and his sons with him, from among the Israelites, to serve me as priests—Aaron and Aaron's sons, Nadab and Abihu, Eleazar and Ithamar. (Exodus 28:1)

[2] (Gerald F. Hawthorne, New International Bible Commentary, ed. F.F. Bruce [Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan, 1979], 1507).

[3] (Kenneth Schenck, Understanding the Book of Hebrews: The Story Behind the Sermon [Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2003], 76).

[4] (Kenneth Schenck, Understanding the Book of Hebrews: The Story Behind the Sermon [Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2003], 113, note 32).

[5] And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and prayed, "My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet not what I want but what you want." (Matthew 26:39)

Again he went away for the second time and prayed, "My Father, if this cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done." (Matthew 26:42)

[6] 32 They went to a place called Gethsemane; and he said to his disciples, "Sit here while I pray." 33 He took with him Peter and James and John, and began to be distressed and agitated. 34 And he said to them, "I am deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and keep awake." 35 And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him. 36 He said, "Abba, Father, for you all things are possible; remove this cup from me; yet, not what I want, but what you want." 37 He came and found them sleeping; and he said to Peter, "Simon, are you asleep? Could you not keep awake one hour? 38 Keep awake and pray that you may not come into the time of trial; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak." 39 And again he went away and prayed, saying the same words. 40 And once more he came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were very heavy; and they did not know what to say to him. 41 He came a third time and said to them, "Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? Enough! The hour has come; the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. 42 Get up, let us be going. See, my betrayer is at hand." (Mark 14:32-43, with parallels in Matthew 26:36-46 and Luke 22:41-42, 45-46)

[7] 40 When he reached the place, he said to them, "Pray that you may not come into the time of trial." … 43 [Then an angel from heaven appeared to him and gave him strength. 44 In his anguish he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down on the ground.] (Luke 22:40, 43-44, with the latter two verses of questionable authenticity.]

[8] 27 "Now my soul is troubled. And what should I say—"Father, save me from this hour'? No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour. (John 12:27)

[9] (New International Bible Commentary, ed. F.F. Bruce [Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan, 1979], 1514).

[10] Barth, Church Dogmatics, I.2 [15.2], 158.

[11] Barth, Church Dogmatics, IV.1, 59.2, 260.

[12] (Craig Koester, "Hebrews," Anchor Bible, v. 36 [New York: Doubleday, 2001], 299).

[13] (Kenneth Schenck, Understanding the Book of Hebrews: The Story Behind the Sermon, [Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2003], 69).

[14] Pannenberg (Systematic Theology Volume 2, 316, 375, 384, 439, Volume 3, 318)

[15] Rengstorf, TDNT, Volume 4, 410-412.

[16] (New International Bible Commentary, ed. F.F. Bruce, [Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan, 1979], 1514).

[17] (Kenneth Schenck, Understanding the Book of Hebrews: The Story Behind the Sermon, [Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2003], 77).

[18] "(Kenneth Schenck, Understanding the Book of Hebrews: The Story Behind the Sermon [Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2003], 78).

[19] (Kenneth Schenck, Understanding the Book of Hebrews: The Story Behind the Sermon [Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2003], 78).

Job 38:1-7, 34-41

Job 38:1-7, 34-41 (NRSV)

 Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind:

² “Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?

³ Gird up your loins like a man,

I will question you, and you shall declare to me. 

⁴ “Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?

Tell me, if you have understanding.

⁵ Who determined its measurements—surely you know!

Or who stretched the line upon it?

⁶ On what were its bases sunk,

or who laid its cornerstone

⁷ when the morning stars sang together

and all the heavenly beings shouted for joy?

³⁴ “Can you lift up your voice to the clouds,

so that a flood of waters may cover you?

³⁵ Can you send forth lightnings, so that they may go

and say to you, ‘Here we are’?

³⁶ Who has put wisdom in the inward parts,

or given understanding to the mind?

³⁷ Who has the wisdom to number the clouds?

Or who can tilt the waterskins of the heavens,

³⁸ when the dust runs into a mass

and the clods cling together? 

³⁹ “Can you hunt the prey for the lion,

or satisfy the appetite of the young lions,

⁴⁰ when they crouch in their dens,

or lie in wait in their covert?

⁴¹ Who provides for the raven its prey,

when its young ones cry to God,

and wander about for lack of food?

            Job 38:1-7, 34-41 is part of the Theophany, the speeches of God in Chapters 38-41. It cannot give an answer to Job for his suffering, for it would remove the nature of the test. Why is it that believing in God and following God’s commandments does not automatically entitle one to a life of happiness? This is the question of theodicy — the theological concept that addresses the question of whether God is just. Many readers think of Job as a reflection upon that question. Job’s faith posits divine sovereignty — his God is in ultimate control of the universe — and his religious tradition posits a system of strict moral retribution: the good receive reward and the evil punishment. Job, however, seems to be suffering the punishments of the wicked without having done the deeds to deserve it; the moral universe has gone topsy-turvy, and the book is an attempt to sort it out again. God’s response from the whirlwind is the beginning of God's contribution to that attempt.

In a hymn to God's power in Chapter 38, the Lord urges Job to meditate upon the works of God in nature, which reveal both justice and power. Theologically, we have a reminder that the biblical belief that creation in its richness of life and in the variety of its forms plays an important role.[1] Job 38 is part of the presentation of a theophany that extends from 38:1-42:6. It consists of the first speech. However, readers who go to Job for answers on the theodicy question often find the Lord’s answer to Job beginning in chapter 38 to be less than satisfying. In fact, the book of Job never actually attempts to answer the question of whether or not Job was really completely righteous, or whether God was being arbitrary in allowing Satan to plague an innocent believer with misfortune.

Outside the books of Job and Ecclesiastes there appears to be very little divergence in the predominant theological view of ancient Israel (represented best by Deuteronomy), namely — that if one is righteous, God will reward that righteousness with a prosperous and happy life. Because there was no clear belief in life after death in ancient Israel much before the post-exilic period, it was essential to an Israelite doctrine of a good and just God that this God would reward and punish both virtue and iniquity in this earthly life. This, however, left those who felt they had suffered for no apparent cause, as illustrated by the character of Job, puzzled over this seeming contradiction in the way God was expected to relate to the universe. Either God is not a God who rewards the good and punishes the guilty (and is therefore not a particularly just God) or human beings who suffer must simply deserve the suffering they get whether or not they can divine the cause of that suffering in some personal shortcoming.

Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind (“storm” or “tempest”). Elihu refers to a storm in 37:2. We also see it at 40:6.[2] Natural upheavals were a regular accompaniment of divine revelations (e.g., Psalm 18:7-15). Such pervasive Old Testament imagery derives from the various ancient pre-Israelite cults of weather deities, most notably the Canaanite storm-god Baal, who seemed locked in a centuries-long battle with Yahweh for the loyalty of the Israelites. ² “Who is this that darkens counsel (“obscures [the divine] plan” or “confuses divine truth”) by words without knowledge? Elihu also accused Job of speaking out ignorance in 34:35. The same question appears at 42:3 (translated slightly differently in the NRSV). ³ Gird up your loins (which occurs again at 40:7 as part of the second divine speech) like a man (gever “warrior” or “hero”). The word occurs regularly as metaphoric (and sometimes literal) preparation for any serious undertaking (e.g., Exodus 12:11; I Kings 18:46). The image may derive from the warrior's girding his sword onto his thigh (Psalm 45:3), or (as in Isaiah 11:5 and the Kings passage) it may refer to the belting up of a warrior’s kilt to allow greater freedom of movement. Naturally, the term is gender specific. I will question you, and you shall declare to me. God is now the one doing the questioning, rather than Job.  God refuses to submit to questioning.  God also refuses to list Job's sins.  The response of the Lord is a series of rhetorical questions that Job cannot begin to answer, and no answer is expected. ⁴ “Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding.[3] Eliphaz asked Job similar questions in 15:7-8 and Elihu in 37:18. Job was not present at creation. The author evokes imagery of primordial days when water covered the face of the earth so that the first creative act of God was to form dry land upon which creation could take hold (Genesis 1:2-10) and to control the power of the remaining chaotic powers. God anchored this island of dry land that we call earth and set it upon a sure foundation. The value placed in the Old Testament on an earth that does not shift is no doubt due to the fact that earthquakes were a reasonably common experience in biblical times (Amos 1:1). ⁵ Who determined its measurements—surely you know! Job cannot order nature to do his bidding. He has no power over nature, nor does he have detailed knowledge of it. Alternatively, who stretched the line upon it? ⁶ On what were its bases sunk, or who laid its cornerstone (which may be the foundation stone or it may be the capstone of the earth’s highest mountain-tower)? The laying of a foundation (Ezra 3:10-11) or the positioning of a capstone (Zechariah 4:7) was an occasion for great liturgical and secular celebration, occurring at either the start of an important undertaking or at its successful completion. The question (verses 4-6) reflects ancient Israelite cosmology, in which it conceived the earth not as a sphere suspended in limitless space, but rather as a rectangular plane with four corners (Isaiah 11:12), supported by pillars, which were, in their turn, resting on a solid foundation of unfathomable depth and substance. Such a time of creation is ⁷ when the morning stars sang together and all the heavenly beings (elohim, sons of God) shouted for joy. God set the time for this work at the very earliest possible point in creation. Although the celestial bodies were frequently mythologized in the OT as heavenly armies under the command of Yahweh (giving rise to the common title “the Lord of [the heavenly] host”; cf. Isaiah 40:26), they were also part of the heavenly court (1 Kings 22:19-23), and as such, their responsibilities included hymning the praises of their liege (e.g., Psalm 19:1-4; 29:1-2; 148:1-4). This is a reference to the ancient Near Eastern belief that the stars were actually minor gods, known elsewhere in the Old Testament as the “hosts of heaven.” Worship of these minor gods was common in other countries (witness Assyrian Ishtar who is the morning and evening star deity of Mesopotamia), but in the Bible they are creatures, created by the One God as worthy of worship, such minor creatures not being worthy objects of worship in their own right. In this passage, the author portrays them worshiping the One God and glorifying him for his creative power. Given all of this, of course, the point is the folly Job displays in questioning the wisdom and justice of God. The purpose is not to demonstrate the Lord’s righteousness within the moral framework proposed by Job and his friends, but rather to shift the terms of the debate completely. By demanding that Job articulate his participation in the ongoing fact of creation, the divine response makes the point that the human self cannot serve as the point of reference for the moral universe. The divine speech is a direct refutation of the view attributed to (among many others) Protagoras of Abdera (c. 480-410 B.C.) that the human being is the measure of all things. Whether the author of Job had this particular philosopher’s views in mind is doubtful,[4] but the idea was widespread even in the ancient world. The purpose of the first divine speech is not to demonstrate Job’s innocence, but rather his ignorance, and the role that ignorance plays in constructing a functional morality.

In Job 38: 34-41, God shifts from describing his role in making the created universe to pointing out the continuing care of God for creation. ³⁴ “Can you lift up your voice to the clouds, so that a flood of waters may cover you? Verse 34b equals 22:11b. ³⁵ Can you send forth lightnings, so that they may go and say to you, ‘Here we are’? ³⁶ Who has put wisdom in the inward parts (hapax legomena), or given understanding to the mind (hapax legomena)?[5] Regardless of the specific translation, the sense is clear and the author makes his point: Job knows little of what he speaks when challenging the Divine. ³⁷ Who has the wisdom to number the clouds? Who can tilt the waterskins of the heavens, ³⁸ when the dust runs into a mass and the clods cling together?  The image of God gathering the heavenly or terrestrial waters into a waterskin or bottle is one we also find in Psalm 33:7. God is the one who brings rain, without which nothing grows in Palestine. ³⁹ “Can you hunt the prey for the lion, or satisfy the appetite of the young lions, ⁴⁰ when they crouch in their dens, or lie in wait in their covert? ⁴¹ Who provides for the raven its prey, when its young ones cry to God, and wander about for lack of food? Psalm 37 also has the images of young lions and ravens seeking their food from God (vv. 39, 41; cf. Psalm 104.21; 147:9). God is the one who provides prey for the wild animals and birds. This speech portrays God as the provider of all sustenance needed by his creation. God not only makes life, God sustains life. For this reason, Job should acknowledge that God is the initiator and the sustainer of his life — the author of all that is. Once Job acknowledges this fact, all questions about the relative virtue of God’s behavior in creation become absurd. The chapter ends, as it began, completely ignoring the narrow morality with which Job and his friends have approached the problem of his suffering and points the argument in an entirely new direction, toward the God whose actions in creation beggar human comprehension.

According to Frederick Greenspahn, the author of Job has made special efforts to give all of the speakers in the book their own voice.  Each of Job's "friends" speaks with his own distinctive vocabulary, and when it is God's turn to speak, God's speeches have an inordinately high percentage of hapax legomena, words that only occur once in the Bible. In fact, these speeches contain more unique words than any other passages in the Hebrew Bible. Not only does God speak of topics too grand for full human comprehension, God also uses a most sophisticated and exotic vocabulary. Such unusual vocabulary makes the translation of these speeches an exercise in the topic of the speeches, namely, the human inability to fathom the mind of God!

Another key aspect of the book of Job is the odd disjunction caused by the way God changes character between chapter 1 and chapter 38. In Chapter 1, God brags to Satan of Job's complete faithfulness, his exemplary character, and sounds every bit like a doting parent singing the praises of a favorite child. In those early portions of the book, God is wearing the face associated with the kindly father, the ancient of days. This God associated with agrarian patriarchal society where the beneficent elder God reigns as judge over a counsel of other heavenly beings (called in Job 1:6 and 38:7 and elsewhere the bene elohim, or “sons of God”). This image was most popular in Northern Israel as well as during the era when Israel was an agrarian tribal society ruled by their elders. In this heavenly court God is the righteous judge who rules the creation through force of covenant law that is, and should be, intelligible to the average human being. This God of covenant loyalty, one can trust to be faithful to the rules of covenant and to seek retribution only against those who violate the covenant. This image portrays God, the initiator of the covenant law, as an elder whose primary role is to sit in judgment of those bound together by this law, with its predictable rules of reward and punishment. God wears this face at the beginning of Job, leading the reader as well as the protagonist to assume, perhaps wrongly, that God the judge will always act in a manner that one can rationally deduce from the laws of the covenant governing the divine/human relationship. Job assumes that he can use the mechanisms of a court, whose prosecutor, or Satan, has accused him, to defend himself against any charge. He believes that he has a defense attorney, (Hebrew, go'el) or Redeemer somewhere who will plead his case for him (Job 16:19; 19:25)! In covenant law, the go'el is your nearest kin who has the covenant right and obligation to ransom you if you are taken captive, revenge your death if you are murdered - in short, to defend you from wrong under the law, as Boaz does for Ruth and Naomi. Job feels he knows that he is dealing with the God who founded this system of justice and that one can expect God to act accordingly.

How different from this image is the fierce rebuke with which the Lord greets Job in chapter 38. Many readers wonder where this change comes from. Is it merely Job's very human desire to know and to understand what he has done wrong that turns God from his defender to his accuser? This seems unlikely, given the fact that many characters, both venerated (Abraham, Genesis 19; Moses, Exodus 32), and not so venerated (Jonah) argue with God and question God's intentions without receiving such a devastating response. It seems more likely that Job is intentionally portraying God in two different guises, both of which one can find elsewhere in the Bible. After Job’s lengthy protestations of his innocence, God changes form so that the God who answers Job out of the whirlwind is not the kindly elder. God becomes the warrior God, Divine King of the universe at the height of his power. Seen in this form, God is not required to rule by law. Rather, God rules through absolute power and divine right as Creator. This aspect of God need not justify divine actions to anyone, through law or any other means. Here God is a being of raw power that one is simply to worship for who this God is and without question. Here, God is the Divine Warrior King, Creator of the Universe. This God does not respond to appeals to law. This God is more like Canaanite Baal, or Babylonian Marduk, the God of the Storm, who vanquishes his enemies, creates the world out of the wreckage, which the divine assembly declares King, and takes up residence in his temple, to receive worship by all. In Job 38, God speaks to his "creature" Job - not to his covenant partner. This God does not rule through judgment and decree. This God rules by dazzling opponents and shifting the very ground under their feet. Therefore, Job began in the presence of God the kindly elder. He soon finds himself, however, at the mercy of God the Divine Warrior. Although these two divine faces carry with them widely divergent theological overtones, the Hebrew Bible holds both of these images (as well as many more!) in creative tension (e.g. 1 Kings 18-19).

Job is shifting from the image of God the "Adjudicator" to God the "Dazzler" is also central to the way in which Israel began dealing with the problem of righteous suffering. The older God, the God of Law, is one might expect to reward the righteous and punish the wicked in the here and now, but as Job and Ecclesiastes in particular, point out, this often does not happen in real life. One way to understand what is happening when the righteous suffer is to cling to the worship of God the Dazzler. This God, though inscrutable, is still one can count upon to be righteous. If this God does not reveal the plan in this life, one can still assume this God to have a plan to restore justice, perhaps in another life. The key place that Job and Ecclesiastes occupy in the development of Old Testament theology is that they open the door to the beginning of apocalyptic speculation about life after death by pointing out that if God is indeed just, then there must be some future reality in which God will balance the scales of injustice created in this life. The key to happiness then, is not in an endless soul searching which may or may not reveal a personal shortcoming that justifies God for inflicting one’s suffering, but rather in acknowledging that God is ruler of the universe and the owner of all power, and that one cannot second-guess God concerning the uses of that power. The Israelite religion gradually began to walk down this road as it explored apocalyptic thinking and later Hellenistic notions of the eternal life of the soul separate from the body. What Job portrays in its depiction of God's changing face is what humanity experiences whenever it feels the "Redeemer," whom faith insists must be present, is hiding. When evil seems to have overpowered good, God the All-powerful Creator is still in charge of the universe, whether or not the universe can comprehend exactly what God is doing.

The items of evidence used to subdue Job’s objections throughout God’s answer to him are clear reminders of Job’s finitude, his incomplete knowledge and his insufficient right to question God’s motives. In passages that portray God as the elder judge of covenant law, one recounts God’s great acts in history as the justification for human faith in God (Deuteronomy 29; Joshua 24). In Job 38, however, the repetition of the vivid descriptions of the great acts of creation in order to enumerate the many ways in which God’s order of power and order of being surpass any human ability to understand or comprehend and abrogate all human rights to question God’s actions.

Yet, if we pay attention to how God refers to creation, we can see the love and care God has for it, whether inanimate or animate. God is inviting Job to consider that God remains good even while he has suffered and experienced evil. God allows for chaos in this world, and thus opens the possibility of reconciliation with life. Chaos is present, but it is not all there is.

The reader has some surprise that God deals with something completely different from what Job had asked. The point seems to be that God has an Eternal and Infinite perspective that human beings can never have. Some questions and puzzles of human life are beyond figuring in the context of belief in God. The answer consists in a storm of counter-questions, all of which point to the ludicrous limits set to human understanding. God shows Job how many more and greater riddles lay behind life. The answer of God insists upon the marvel of the providence of God concerning the world. Yet, the point of the counter-questions is to help Job see that God turns a smiling face toward creation; God cares for those creatures of which Job is not even able to think. The whole of creation is dependent upon God. Yahweh is innocent of all charges. The divine answer to Job glorifies the justice of God toward the individuals God created. God turns toward them to do them good and bless them. That is the answer to the questions of Job. Job held fast to his righteousness, and thus questioned God. God gives the answer by pointing to the glory of the providence of God that sustains all creation. The only answer Job gets is that in this life, with all its mystery and suffering, he has the assurance of the presence of God.  Though Job demands an audience with God that answers his questions, he does not get one.  Yet, (Stump 2010) he does receive an answer in a sense. He has questioned the goodness of God, and God responds by challenging him to consider the providential care and love God has for creation. The response of Job suggests that this encounter with the Lord has caused Job to repent and to see God in a new way. Job seems satisfied with the answer he receives. Faith will remain the only answer when confronted with such questions of life and suffering. If it leads to the deepening of character, it will become the story of a life worth telling for generations and across cultures.

Job is in the straits of a dilemma from which he cannot escape. Job should be in the right, even though he is also in the wrong. This situation is intolerable and is resolved. Job shows himself to the witness of Yahweh, taking the new step forwards with God. He is right in the upshot in relation to his human opponents. In regard to them, he shows himself to be a witness to the truth, and they are revealed to be liars. The fact that this God lives is what makes it impossible for Job so long as breath remains in him, to yield to his friends and to cease his cycle of questioning, petition, protest and resignation, substituting deception instead at this painful point. He writes of a flight from the strange to the true God. Job is contemplating God meeting him in darkness, terror and wrath, that it is at the divine hands that he suffers and yet to God that he appeals and in God that he seeks comfort. In 14:13-15 and 19:25-27, Job is looking to the point where the obscurity of the divine rule encounters him at its most impenetrable, to the approaching darkness of his being in death, in the underworld, with the hope in Chapter 14 and the certainty in Chapter 19 that even there he will have to do with the God who holds him in the divine hands as his redeemer, seeing God with his own eyes. The flight is from the God unknown in unknowability to the God whom we hope or are sure is known in the same unknowability. R. de Pury says that the remarkable thing about this Book of Job makes not a single step of flight to a better God, but stays resolutely on the field of battle under the fire of the divine wrath. God treats him as an enemy. Yet, Job does not falter and calls upon the God who crushes him. Job’s word keeps an ear open for God to speak the divine Word. Job must not leap ahead. He must follow with complete openness. He must look steadily into and not past the hostility with which God encounters him.[6]

God made no mistake in the step forward God made with this man. From within divine concealment and unknowability, God reveals and makes known the divine self. Yahweh is the God whose servant is Job the Edomite. Yahweh is the one who makes this transaction with Satan which is the first turning-point in the history of Job, and who speaks the Word of decision that is the second. Yahweh is the one who proclaims the right of Job and transforms his grief into even greater joy. Yahweh is the ruling subject in the history of Job indicated in the names Elohim and Shaddai. The right of Job is his unwearying demand for the self-declaration of Yahweh. The answer that Yahweh gives to Job consists in Yahweh being known as Elohim-Shaddai, as the one who even in the enigmatic character of the rule of divine majesty and omnipotence is still the God of the particular election of Israel and therefor of Job, before whom he can only keep silence. Job will “see” Elohim-Shaddai in the cosmology and zoology of Chapter 38-39. We must not miss the fact that God takes seriously the questioning man, Job. Yahweh is the covenant partner and friend of Job. Yahweh is also Elohim-Shaddai, the Most High, the Almighty. The point in these chapters is not that humanity should recognize divine superiority. Rather, can humanity really think that the cosmos belongs to it? Can humanity really think that one can order it around human wishes? Humanity needs to respect the mystery of creation. Job sees Yahweh directly in creation. This is Yahweh’s answer out of the whirlwind. Job will need to confess that he is incompetent in respect of the independence of the cosmos and confess the freedom of Yahweh in the divine rule of Elohim-Shaddai. For the reader, this is a strange answer from Yahweh. God recognizes Job as a servant of the Lord who has remained faithful through it all.

For many people, suffering is the deal breaker when it comes to belief in God. We know that in general, suffering and evil occur. For some people, pondering suffering in humanity and in human history is enough. If God existed, if God made a world, it would be better than this one. For others, it becomes personal. A terrible thing happens in their lives, and something snaps inside. How could God allow this? How could God do this?

I reviewed what I had studied concerning world religions and suffering. For the Hindu, suffering occurs because we have cared too deeply for the people and things of this world. We need to practice meditation, yoga, in order to separate from this world. We will then realize that the only proper attitude toward the world is one of indifference. Buddhism has a similar view, wanting us to extinguish desire for anything in this world through its four noble truths and the eightfold path. I thought that Islam, with its connection to Abraham, might have something like the Old Testament laments in the Psalms or the Book of Job. I was wrong. Muslim means submission and one submits to fate or the will of Allah, regardless of whether it makes sense to do so or not. The religions and philosophies of China, such as Taoism and Confucianism do not discuss such matters, for their focus is upon the ethical relationships in their social order.

I guess I have come to appreciate lately the approach of the psalms and of Job. Something is radically wrong with the way things are. We have every right to bring our questions and even challenges to God.

I want to be quite careful here. Anytime one attempts to speak about God and human suffering, there is always the risk that we will sound like Job's friends.  I sympathize with them, as I hope you do as well. What do you say when a friend suffers? In particular, when they have deep questions concerning themselves, life, and God, what do you say?

As our attention turns to Job, a side of us likes him. He defiantly demands from God to know why. Throughout the book, we find the imagery of the courtroom. He demands to stand before the judge, God, and lay out his case. He says, “I do not deserve this.”

Some questions we will need to live with throughout our lives. If you think you can explain all of the horrendous things that happen in life, I think you are trying to explain too much. Our minds have limits. At some point, we will need to have faith that God will work, in even in the midst of horror. God will be at work, even in the things that happen that are contrary to the direct will of God.

Therefore, what do we learn about God from Job?

First, Job’s God is also our God. The speeches of God in 38-41 are difficult, but if you read it carefully, you learn that God is infinite, eternal, and able. We are finite, temporal, and dependent. We need to learn humility and submission. These are uncomfortable lessons. They are lessons each of us needs to learn. We are not the measure of all things. Job teaches us that God is measure of all things. This leads us to make some important affirmations.

The dark day for Job, in which life placed him unaccountably and unexpectedly in a snare of despair, despondency, and desolation, becomes the occasion to consider the role of this one righteous man in the presence of God. Imagine a wrestling match. God walks to his opponent, and says, “I must break you.” The NIV captures the throw down well: “Brace yourself like a man; I will question you, and you shall answer me” (v. 3). Punk. In this chapter, God brings down Job. The poetry moves in a Genesis-like creative pattern — from cosmology (38:4-21) to meteorology (38:22-38) to zoology (38:39–39:30). God is telling Job the only thing he needs to know: “I’m Omni; you are not.”

Omniscient: God knows all. Job, the opponent of God here, simply does not understand enough. When we do not understand, our inquiring minds want to know why. Yet, we are finite, while God is infinite. Yet, Job speaks with no knowledge or understanding (38:2, 4). The tension for us as readers of Job is that Job’s lack of understanding in his suffering never resolves itself. The “because” never arrives. Life is like that. We can never know the whole thing. We are not at the end of the process of history. Only God is there.

Omnipresent: God is eternal as well as infinite, and thus, God is everywhere, in every place, all the time. Job, the opponent of God here, has boundaries and limits, especially in being temporal and finite. God does not live with such limits. In fact, we could suggest that the question of Job ought not so much to be “why” but “where.” In Chapter 23, Job essentially wonders where God is, are you in the north, south, east, or west. The answer God gives here is, “Yes.” After all, God has been places that Job could not imagine. That means that Job, as he went through all his suffering, was never out of sight from God. He may have felt alone. God was there.

Omnipotent: God is capable of anything God wills to do. Job, the opponent, has a limit to his power or ability to control the world. God does not.

When we look at the whole speech of God, God tells Job in the second speech about the divine battle with Behemoth and Leviathan, chaos and evil. This universe is wild and dangerous. In fact, one way to read the book at this point is that just as Job cries out at the disorder and chaos of life, God is saying that the divine will and power is against it as well. Things happen in the world that does not bring God pleasure, and, this is critical, God wants to collaborate with us to fight against it.

We can admit that life human affairs seem guided by chaos, suffering, and evil. Yet, in reflective moments, we look beyond it. Suppose you have a painting before you, but someone has covered all of it up, except for a small piece. It does not look very good. It makes little sense standing alone like that. Yet, you are aware that it is part of a much larger picture. The same might true of some things that happen in our lives (not all, of course). Some things that look so bad now may turn into one part of a beautiful picture that is your life. We cannot make sense of the segments of our lives because we do not have the perspective of eternity.[7]

Second, we need to be careful to appreciate our limits. Frankly, human suffering is a necessary part of being a creature. We have limits to our power and intelligence. We are not big, strong, wise, old, young, or versatile enough. We have not necessarily done anything wrong that has resulted in our suffering. We simply have limits.[8] Paul refers, rather famously, to a messenger of Satan that tormented him. However, it kept him from feeling too elated after he had a powerful spiritual experience. He prayed three times for it to leave him, and the response, finally, was, in II Corinthians 12:9, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.”

Third, Job teaches us that we should continue to live faithfully, even though our faith is wavering. We rightly ask the Lord how long the Lord will forget us, hide from us, and allow us to bear our pain and sorrow (Psalm 13:1-2). People often lose their bearings — emotionally and spiritually — and begin to make decisions they later regret, with lasting consequences. Paul suggests a quite different attitude. In his case, his suffering was the direct result of obeying God. He boasts is suffering like that, because he knows it produce endurance, which will produce character, which will produce a hope that will disappoint due to the love of God that has come into our lives personally through the Hold Spirit (Romans 5:3-5). Adversity will occur, but it also can initiate a chain reaction that forms us into stronger disciples.

Fourth, sometimes you have to wrestle with God to understand who God is more deeply. Please, do not let suffering break the deal between you and God. God is precisely the strength and power you need to go through the difficult times of life. Do not cut off yourself from that power. What I am suggesting is that we need to dig deeper. If we want to take our struggle with life to God, God can take it. Frankly, if your walk with God does not include passion in the heart, anguish of mind, uncertainty, doubt, and despair, your belief may be in the idea of God rather than in the God who wrestles with you in a personal way.[9] Job wrestled with God. Have you ever wrestled with God? Have you ever just plain struggled with God in prayer, meditation, and study? The story of Job certainly gives us permission to do this. In the end, spiritual unrest is a battle that teaches us about our God and us. We can always hope that we become stronger through the fight.

The challenge of a human life is that the real world is too terrible to admit. The real world tells us that we are small, trembling animals who will decay and die.[10] Most of us want to go through life with the illusion that we are safe and secure. In reality, approaching our lives with some fear and trembling may be a good thing. It may force us to see our limits, both before others and before God. Frankly, a single human life is weighty responsibility. We have this one life to live. It will take courage. I have read of a meeting between the great preacher, George Buttrick, and the preacher Norman Vincent Peale. One can safely say that they had quite different approaches to preaching and Christian faith. Buttrick supposedly said, “Norman, don’t you think your people feel insecure because maybe they are?” Our insecurity, our fear and trembling, may be healthy. In these quite personal, inward experiences, we may face our limits of space, time, and power. We are such finite, temporal, and dependent creatures. We may know this in our heads and say, “Well, of course.” Yet, do we feel the weight of it inwardly? Do we have the courage to live with the knowledge of it? It takes courage to get in the arena of life, marred by dust, sweat, and blood. One can know spend oneself in a worthy cause with great enthusiasm and devotion. If one wins, one knows the thrills of high achievement. If one fails, at least one fails daring greatly. Only the cold and timid life will strive to know neither victory nor defeat.[11]

Toward the end of the movie, Forest Gump, Jenny and Forrest finally marry, with Lieutenant Dan, wearing prosthetic legs, in attendance with his fiancée. Jenny dies soon afterward. Forest talks to Jenny at the graveside. He has just bulldozed the house in which Jenny experienced abuse as a child. “Mamma always said that dying is part of life. I sure wish it wasn’t.” I imagine most of us are there. Realistically, we know that suffering is here to stay. Suffering is part of life. We sure wish it were not.
I want to encourage you not to give up, either on you, on life, or on God. I want to give you an example. Paul encountered suffering as he traveled as a missionary to the gentile world. The result was that some people in Corinth thought that he could not be an apostle. I am sure Paul struggled with God. Yet, he arrived at a point where he could write in the confidence that nothing could separate him from the love of Christ. Hardship, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, peril, or sword were simply part of faithful people have experienced in history. He can conquer through these things because of the God who has loved him. Thus, death, life, angels, rulers, things present, things to come, powers, height, depth, nor anything in creation, will separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord (Romans 8:35-39).

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[1] Pannenberg (Systematic Theology, Volume 2, 129)

[2] The word is not the same word that describes the more famous theophanic storm in which Elijah found himself (1 Kings 19:11) or the “great wind” that knocked down the houses of Job’s children (1:19).

[3] Literally, “Tell, if you know understanding,” which may reflect an ancient mythological personification of Understanding akin to the personification of Wisdom found in the book of Proverbs.

[4] (although not impossible, as the book of Job has been dated as late as the third-century B.C.),

[5] These two unusual words could also be translated as the names of two types of birds who give warning of approaching weather phenomena, or as the Egyptian and Greek divinities of wisdom respectively, Thoth and Hermes. The words are uncertain, and the translations have ranged widely. Some indication of the vast territory explored by translators with the difficult text can be seen by comparing the NRSV translation with the rendering in Today’s English Version (The Good News Bible): “Who tells the ibis when the Nile will flood, or who tells the rooster that the rain will fall?” (See Pope, 302-3).

[6] Barth, (Church Dogmatics, IV.3 [70.1], 421-434

[7] On the Ultimate Origination of Things (1697), Leibniz

[8] God and Human Suffering: An Exercise in the Theology of the Cross, Douglas John Hall

[9] “Those who believe they believe in God, but without passion in the heart, without anguish of mind, without uncertainty, without doubt and even at times without despair, believe only in the idea of God, and not in God himself.”- Poet Miguel de Unamuno

[10] Ernest Becker, The Denial of Death (p. 133).

[11] John Kennedy wrote the following about Theodore Roosevelt:

 “The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause; who at best, if he wins, knows the thrills of high achievement, and if he fails, at least fails daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”