MARCH 4 | Exodus 15; Luke 18; Job 33; 2 Corinthians 3

EACH OF THE FIRST FOUR UNITS OF Luke 18 can easily be misunderstood; each makes abundant sense when read in conjunction with the others.
The first (18:1–8) is a parable that Jesus tells his disciples “to show them that they should always pray and not give up” (18:1). An unjust judge is badgered by a persistent widow so that in the end he provides her with the justice she asks for. “And will not God bring about justice for his chosen ones, who cry out to him day and night? Will he keep putting them off?” (18:7). If even this judge eventually puts things right, how much more will God, when his “chosen ones” cry to him? By itself, of course, this parable could be taken to mean that the longer and louder one prays, the more blessings one gets—a kind of tit-for-tat arrangement that Jesus himself elsewhere disavows (Matt. 6:5–15). But the last verse (18:8) focuses the point: “However, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?” The real problem is not with God’s unwillingness to answer, but with our faithless and lethargic refusal to ask.
The second (18:9–14) parable describes a Pharisee and a tax collector who go up to the temple to pray. Some modern relativists conclude from this story that Jesus accepts everyone, regardless of his or her continuing sins, habits, or lifestyle. He rejects only self-confident religious hypocrites. Certainly Jesus rejects the latter. But the parable does not suggest that the tax collector wished to continue in his sin; rather, he begs for mercy, knowing what he is; he approaches God out of a freely recognized need.
In the third unit (18:15–17) Jesus insists that little children be brought to him, “for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.” One must “receive the kingdom of God like a child,” or not at all. Yet this does not commend childlike behavior in all respects (e.g., naïveté, short-term thinking, moral immaturity, the cranky “No!” of the “terrible twos”). But little children do have an openness, a refreshing freedom from self-promotion, a simplicity that asks and trusts.
The fourth unit (18:18–30) finds Jesus telling a rich ruler to sell all that he has and give to the poor, if he is to have treasure in heaven, and then follow Christ. Does this mean that only penurious asceticism will enjoy the blessings of heaven? Is it not Christ’s way of stripping off this particular person’s real god, the pathetic ground of his self-confidence, so that he may trust Jesus and follow him wholly?
Can you see what holds these four units together?

Carson, D. A. (1998). For the love of God: a daily companion for discovering the riches of God’s Word. (Vol. 1, p. 89). Crossway Books.

ONCE THE EXCHANGES BETWEEN JOB and the “miserable comforters” have ground to a halt, a new figure appears on the scene. Elihu’s speech takes up chapters 32–37. He is a young man who has not spoken until now because the etiquette of the day demanded that the older men speak first. Elihu comes across as a rather bumptious individual who up to this point has only just barely restrained himself from speaking. But now he pours forth words like a torrent (as he himself acknowledges, 32:18–21) and vows that he will treat no one with corrosive flattery (32:22).
The substance of Elihu’s address first takes form in Job 33. Once one allows for his slightly defensive pomposity, Elihu nevertheless has some important things to say. At several points he skirts very close to what the others have said, yet he veers away from their most egregious errors so that the total configuration of his utterance is quite different.
In this chapter he addresses Job; later he will address the “comforters.” To Job he drives home two primary points.
First, Elihu asserts that although Job has acknowledged God’s greatness—indeed, Job has insisted on God’s greatness—he has gone over the top by so insisting on his own righteousness that he has made God out to be some sort of ogre. “I tell you, in this you are not right” (33:12). Wisely, Elihu stops there. He does not go on to say, as did the three “comforters,” that Job should also admit to being thoroughly guilty. Job’s sole guilt, so far as Elihu is concerned, is in charging God with guilt.
Second, Elihu asserts that God is not as distant and as inaccessible as Job makes him out to be (33:14ff.). God may come to a person in some strange dream of the night that warns him or her to abandon some evil path (33:15–18). Or—more to the point—God may actually speak in the language of pain, forestalling arrogance and independence (33:19–28). He may do these things more than once to someone, thereby turning back his soul from the grave (33:29–30). Elihu has thus opened up questions as to the purpose of suffering not entertained by either Job or his antagonists. He is certainly not saying that Job deserves all the suffering he is facing; indeed, Elihu insists that he wants Job to be cleared (33:32).
Apart from the importance of the issue itself—that suffering may have for its purpose something other than deserved punishment—the entire discussion reminds us of an important pastoral lesson. Of course, it is not invariably so; but sometimes when two opponents square off and neither will give an inch, neither has adequately reflected on the full parameters of the topic.

Carson, D. A. (1998). For the love of God: a daily companion for discovering the riches of God’s Word. (Vol. 2, p. 89). Crossway Books.

FEBRUARY 9 | Genesis 42; Mark 12; Job 8; Romans 12

THE EXCHANGE BETWEEN Jesus and some of his opponents in Mark 12:13–17 is full of interest. Mark says that Jesus’ interlocutors set out “to catch him in his words” (12:13). Doubtless that is why they begin with some pretty condescending flattery about how principled a teacher he is, utterly unwilling to be swayed by popular opinion. It is all a setup. “Is it right to pay taxes to Caesar or not?” they ask. “Should we pay or shouldn’t we?” (12:14–15).
They thought they had him. If he answered “No,” then he would be in trouble with the Roman authorities, who certainly were not going to allow a popular religious preacher in a volatile country like this one go around advocating nonpayment of taxes. Jesus might even be executed for treason. But if he answered “Yes,” then he would lose the confidence of the people and therefore diminish his popularity. Many ordinary Jews not only felt the ordinary human resentment of taxes, but raised theological objections. How could conscientious Jews pay in coins that had the image of the emperor on them, especially coins that ascribed titles of deity to him? Besides, if Jews were really righteous, would not God come down and deliver his people again, this time from the Roman superpower? Does not principled fidelity to God demand nonpayment of taxes?
Whatever answer Jesus gave, he would be a loser. But he refuses to yield. Instead, he asks for a coin, asks whose image is on it, and argues that it is right to give to Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s. Jesus thereby neatly escapes their snare, and his interlocutors are amazed.
But there are layers of implications here. Under a strict theocracy, Jesus’ words would be incoherent: the rule of God is mediated by the king, so that their domains are not so easily separable. Moreover, the old covenant structure was, on paper, tightly bound to theocratic rule. Yet here is Jesus announcing that a distinction must be made between Caesar’s claims and the claims of the living God.
Of course, this does not mean that Caesar’s domain is entirely independent of God’s domain, nor that God does not remain in providential control. But it is hard to avoid the conclusion that Jesus is announcing a fundamental change in the administration of the covenant community. The locus of the community is no longer a theocratic kingdom; it is now an assembly of churches from around the world, living under many “kings” and “Caesars,” and offering worship to none of them. And that is why many Christians around the world trace the history of the non-establishment of a particular religion to this utterance of the Lord Jesus himself.

Carson, D. A. (1998). For the love of God: a daily companion for discovering the riches of God’s Word. (Vol. 1, p. 66). Crossway Books.

BILDAD THE SHUHITE IS SCANDALIZED BY Job’s response to Eliphaz and offers his own searing rebuttal (Job 8).
“How long will you say such things?” Bildad asks. “Your words are a blustering wind” (8:2). We would say they are nothing but hot air. From Bildad’s perspective, Job is charging God with perverting justice. “Does the Almighty pervert what is right?” (8:3). But Bildad cannot let the point linger as a merely theoretical point to be debated by theologians. The implications of his rhetorical question Bildad now drives home in a shaft that must have pierced Job to the quick: “When your children sinned against him, he gave them over to the penalty of their sin” (8:4). In other words, the proper explanation of the storm that killed all ten of Job’s children (1:18–19) is that they deserved it. To say anything else would surely mean, according to Bildad, that God is unjust, that he perverts justice. So the way forward for Job is “to look to God and plead with the Almighty” (8:5). If Job humbles himself and is truly pure and upright, God will restore him to his “rightful place.” Indeed, all the fabulous wealth Job formerly enjoyed will seem like a mere piffle compared with the rewards that will come to him (8:6–7).
For his authority Bildad appeals to longstanding tradition, to “the former generations.” The opinions he and his friends express are not newfangled ideas but received tradition. Bildad and his friends, regardless of how old they are, can only have learned by experience what can be tasted in one lifetime. What they are appealing to, however, is not the experience of one lifetime, but accumulated tradition. That tradition says that the godless and those who forget God perish like reeds without water; they enjoy all the support of those who lean on spiders’ webs (8:11–19). Conversely, “Surely God does not reject a blameless man or strengthen the hands of evildoers” (8:20).
Of course, this is roughly the argument of Eliphaz, perhaps somewhat more bluntly expressed; and while Eliphaz appealed to visions of the night, Bildad appealed to received tradition. Once again, parts of the argument are not wrong. At one level, on an eternal scale, it is right to conclude that God vindicates righteousness and condemns wickedness. But as Bildad expresses the case, he claims to know more about God’s doings than he really does (neither he nor Job knows the behind-the-scenes setup in chapter 1). Worse, he applies his doctrine mechanically and shortsightedly, and ends up condemning a righteous man.
Can you think of instances where premature or unbalanced application of biblical truth has turned out to be fundamentally mistaken?

Carson, D. A. (1998). For the love of God: a daily companion for discovering the riches of God’s Word. (Vol. 2, p. 66). Crossway Books.

FEBRUARY 8 | Genesis 41; Mark 11; Job 7; Romans 11

THE EXCHANGE BETWEEN Jesus and some of his opponents, reported in Mark 11:27–33, is one of the strangest in the four Gospels. Jesus ducks their crucial question by asking one of his own, one that they cannot answer for political reasons. Why doesn’t Jesus respond in a straightforward manner? Doesn’t this sound a little like brinkmanship, or, worse, a petty jockeying for power and one-upmanship?
At one level, the question of the chief priests, the teachers of the law, and the elders was entirely legitimate. By what authority does Jesus clear the temple courts, accept the accolades of countless thousands as he is ushered into Jerusalem on a donkey, and preach with robust confidence? His is not the authority of the rabbinic schools, nor of those who hold high ecclesiastical and political office. So what kind of authority is it?
How might Jesus have responded? If he said he was simply doing these things on his own, he would sound presumptuous and arrogant. He could not name an adequate earthly authority. If he insisted that everything he said and did were the words and deeds of God, they could have had him up on a blasphemy charge. It is not obvious what true answer he might have given them that would have simultaneously satisfied them and preserved his own safety.
So Jesus tells them, in effect, that he will answer their question if they will answer one of his: “John’s baptism—was it from heaven, or from men? Tell me!” (11:30). His interlocutors weigh their possible answers on the basis of political expediency. If they say, “From heaven,” they reflect, he will condemn them for not becoming disciples of John. Worse, they cannot fail to see that this is also a setup for the answer to their question. For after all, John the Baptist pointed to Jesus. If they acknowledge that John’s ministry is anchored in heaven, and John pointed to Jesus, then Jesus has answered their question; his ministry, too, must have heaven’s sanction behind it. But if they say, “From men,” they will lose face with the people who cherished John. So they say nothing, and forfeit their right to hear an answer from Jesus (11:31).
A pair of pastoral implications flow from this exchange. The first is that some people cannot penetrate to Jesus’ true identity and ministry, even when they ask questions that seem to be penetrating, because in reality their minds are made up, and all they are really looking for is ammunition to destroy him. The second is that sometimes a wise answer is an indirect one that avoids traps while exposing the two-faced perversity of the interlocutor. While Christians should normally be forthright, we should never be naive.

Carson, D. A. (1998). For the love of God: a daily companion for discovering the riches of God’s Word. (Vol. 1, p. 65). Crossway Books.

IN THE SECOND PART OF HIS RESPONSE TO ELIPHAZ, Job addresses God directly (Job 7), though we are meant to understand that this agonizing prayer is uttered in such a way that Eliphaz and his friends overhear it. In fact, as we shall see, there is a tight connection between chapters 6 and 7.
The first ten verses of moving complaint, full of descriptions of sleepless nights and festering sores, are focused on “reminding” God how brief human life is. “Life is hard, and then you die” is the contemporary expression; more prosaically, Job asks, “Does not man have hard service on earth? Are not his days like those of a hired man?” (7:1). Physically, he will not last much longer.
“Therefore,” Job argues, “I will not keep silent; I will speak out in the anguish of my spirit, I will complain in the bitterness of my soul” (7:11). To God, Job says, in effect, I am not a monster—so why pick on me? My life is without meaning (7:16); I would rather be strangled to death than continue to live as I am now living (7:15).
Why should God make so much of a mere mortal as to pay him the attention God is obviously paying Job (7:17–18)? Though he is unaware of any sin in his life that has attracted such suffering, Job knows he is not sinless. But why should that attract so much suffering? “If I have sinned, what have I done to you, O watcher of men? Why have you made me your target? Have I become a burden to you?” (7:20).
Now it should be easier to see how this chapter is tied to the argument at the end of chapter 6. There Job protests to Eliphaz that his (Job’s) integrity is at stake. The thrust of Eliphaz’s argument was that Job must be suffering for wrongdoing he had never confessed; the way ahead is self-abnegation and confession. But Job replies to the effect that his friends should still be his friends; that they are condemning him because they themselves cannot bear the thought that an innocent person might suffer; that their rebuke calls into question his lifelong integrity. In chapter 7, when Job turns to address God, his stance is entirely in line with what he has just told Eliphaz. Far from confessing sin, he tells God that he is being picked on. Or if he has sinned, he has not done anything to deserve this sort of minute attention and painful judgment. Indeed, Job comes within a whisker of implying that God himself is not quite fair. Thus Job maintains his integrity.
So the drama of this book builds. The way ahead is still to be explored. Meanwhile, meditate on Job 42:7.

Carson, D. A. (1998). For the love of God: a daily companion for discovering the riches of God’s Word. (Vol. 2, p. 65). Crossway Books.

FEBRUARY 7 | Genesis 40; Mark 10; Job 6; Romans 10

TRUSTING GOD’S PROVIDENCE is not to be confused with succumbing to fatalism. It is not a resigned sigh of Que sera, sera—“What will be, will be.” This Joseph understood (Gen. 40).
The account of Pharaoh’s cupbearer and baker does not tell us which of the two, if either, was actually guilty of something; it only tells us which of the two Pharaoh decided was guilty. Even then, we are not told the nature of the crime. The focus, rather, is on their respective dreams, and the fact that only Joseph, of those in prison, is able to interpret their dreams. The interpretations are so dramatic, and so precisely fulfilled, that their accuracy cannot be questioned.
Joseph himself is under no illusion as to the source of his powers. “Do not interpretations belong to God?” he asks (40:8). Even before Pharaoh, where he might have been expected to slant his explanations just a little so as to enhance his own reputation, Joseph will later insist even more emphatically that he cannot himself interpret dreams; God alone can do it (41:16, 25).
Yet despite this unswerving loyalty to God, despite this candid confession of his own limitations, despite the sheer tenacity and integrity of his conduct under unjust suffering, Joseph does not confuse God’s providence with fatalism. The point is demonstrated in this chapter in two ways.
First, Joseph is quite prepared to tell his predicament to the cupbearer (the servant who will be released in three days and restored to the court) in the hope that he might be released (40:14–15). Joseph’s faith in God does not mean that he becomes entirely passive. He takes open action to effect improvement in his circumstances, provided that action is stamped with integrity.
Second, when he briefly describes the circumstances that brought him into prison, Joseph does not hide the sheer evil that was done. He insists he “was forcibly carried off from the land of the Hebrews” (40:15). The point was important, for most slaves became such because of economic circumstances. For example, when people fell into bankruptcy, they sold themselves into slavery. But that was not what had happened to Joseph, and he wanted Pharaoh to know it. He was a victim. Further, even during his life as a slave in Egypt he did “nothing to deserve being put in a dungeon”—which of course means he was incarcerated unjustly. Thus Joseph does not confuse God’s providential rule with God’s moral approbation.
Fatalism and pantheism have no easy way of distinguishing what is from what ought to be. Robust biblical theism encourages us to trust the goodness of the sovereign, providential God, while confronting and opposing the evil that takes place in this fallen world.

Carson, D. A. (1998). For the love of God: a daily companion for discovering the riches of God’s Word. (Vol. 1, p. 64). Crossway Books.

JOB’S RESPONSE TO ELIPHAZ TAKES UP two chapters. In Job 6 he argues as follows:
(1) In the opening verses (6:1–7) Job insists he has every reason for bemoaning his situation: his anguish and misery are beyond calculation (6:2–3). Nor does Job flinch from the obvious: in God’s universe, God himself must somehow be behind these calamities—“The arrows of the Almighty are in me … God’s terrors are marshaled against me” (6:4). Not even a donkey brays without a reason (6:5), so why should Job’s friends treat him as if he is complaining without a reason?
(2) Job utters his deepest request: that God would simply crush him, “let loose his hand and cut me off” (6:9). This is more than a death wish: “Then I would still have this consolation—my joy in unrelenting pain—that I had not denied the words of the Holy One” (6:10). From this, three things are clear. (a) Despite his agony, Job is still thinking from within the framework of a committed believer. His suffering is not driving him to agnosticism or naturalism. (b) More importantly, his primary desire is to remain faithful to God. He sees death not only as a release from his suffering but as a way of dying before the intensity of his suffering should drive him to say or do something that would dishonor God. (c) Implicitly, this is also a response to Eliphaz. A man with such a passionate commitment to remain faithful to “the words of the Holy One” (6:10) should not be dismissed as a light and frivolous prevaricator.
(3) Eliphaz’s position depends on the assumption that if Job acts as Eliphaz advises, all his wealth and power will be restored to him. Job insists he is well beyond that point: he has no hope, no prospects. He cannot conduct himself in such a way as to finagle blessings from God (6:11–13).
(4) Meanwhile, Job reproaches Eliphaz and his colleagues (6:14–23). “A despairing man should have the devotion of his friends, even though he forsakes the fear of the Almighty” (6:14); that is what real friendship is like. Job analyzes the real reason why his friends have proved “as undependable as intermittent streams” (6:15): they have seen something dreadful and they are afraid (6:21). Their neat theological categories have been blown away by Job’s suffering, since they had believed he was a righteous man. They must now prove him to be unrighteous, deserving of his sufferings, or they too are under threat.
(5) Job ends with a wrenching plea (6:24–30). As far as he is concerned, his own integrity is at stake; he will not fake repentance when he knows he does not deserve this suffering. “Relent, do not be unjust” (6:29), he tells his friends.

Carson, D. A. (1998). For the love of God: a daily companion for discovering the riches of God’s Word. (Vol. 2, p. 64). Crossway Books.

FEBRUARY 6 | Genesis 39; Mark 9; Job 5; Romans 9

IT IS ENTIRELY APPROPRIATE to read Genesis 39 as a lesson in moral courage, a case study of a God-fearing man who rightly perceives that an attractive temptation is in reality an invitation to sin against God (39:9), and who therefore cares more for his purity than his prospects.
Nevertheless, Genesis 39 must also be read in several broader dimensions, each with important lessons.
First, this chapter begins and ends very much the same way. This literary “inclusion” signals that the themes in the opening and the closing control the entire chapter. At the beginning, Joseph is sold into the service of Potiphar. God is so very much with him that in due course he becomes the head slave of this substantial household. We must not think this took place overnight; the chronology suggests eight or ten years elapsed. During this time Joseph would have had to learn the language and work his way up from the bottom. But all of this was tied to the blessing of God on Joseph’s life, and Joseph’s consequent integrity. At the end of the chapter, Joseph has been thrown into prison on a false charge, but even here God is with him and grants him favor in the eyes of the warden, and in due course becomes a prisoner-trustee. Thus the chapter as a whole demonstrates that sometimes God chooses to bless us and make us people of integrity in the midst of abominable circumstances, rather than change our circumstances.
Second, Genesis 39 serves as a foil to Genesis 38. Judah is a free and prosperous man, but when he is bereaved of his wife he ends up sleeping with his daughter-in-law. He deploys a double standard and shames himself and his family. (The fact that initially he wants Tamar executed for a sin he himself has also committed shows that he is less interested in punishing the guilty as a matter of principle than in punishing those who are caught.) Joseph is a slave, yet under the blessing of God retains his sexual purity and his integrity. Which one is happier in the eyes of the world? Which one is happier in the light of eternity?
Third, Genesis 39 is part of the march toward Joseph’s elevation to leadership in Egypt. By the wretched means described in Genesis 37, 39–40, Joseph eventually becomes “prime minister” of Egypt and saves many from starvation—including his own extended family, and therefore the messianic line. But Joseph could not know how all of that would work out as he was going through his misery. The most he knew were the stories passed down from Abraham, and his own youthful dreams (Gen. 37). But Joseph walks by faith and not by sight.

Carson, D. A. (1998). For the love of God: a daily companion for discovering the riches of God’s Word. (Vol. 1, p. 63). Crossway Books.

IN THE SECOND PART OF HIS SPEECH (Job 5), Eliphaz presupposes the stance he adopts in the first part (see yesterday’s meditation), yet adds several new wrinkles to his impassioned presentation.
First, he says that Job’s approach to God in this crisis is fundamentally flawed. By all means call on God (5:1)—but why imagine that someone as exalted as God will answer? Meanwhile, Job’s attitude is what is killing him: “Resentment kills a fool, and envy slays the simple” (5:2). Eliphaz speaks out of his own observation: he has seen such fools prospering in the past, but suddenly they are uprooted. The implication is that Job’s former prosperity was the prosperity of a “fool,” and his current loss is nothing but his due. Somewhat inconsistently, Eliphaz adds that human suffering is a function of the human condition: “Man is born to trouble as surely as sparks fly upward” (5:7).
Second, rather self-righteously Eliphaz tells Job what he would do if he were in a similar situation (5:8–16). He would appeal to God and lay his case before him—not with Job’s attitude, which Eliphaz finds insufferable, but with humility and contrition. After all, God reigns providentially and is committed to humbling the arrogant and the crafty and exalting the poor and the needy. So Eliphaz would approach God as a suppliant.
Third, Eliphaz insists that at least one of God’s aims in bringing about loss and disaster is discipline: “Blessed is the man whom God corrects; so do not despise the discipline of the Almighty. For he wounds, but he also binds up; he injures, but his hands also heal” (5:17–18). Those who recognize this point discover that God quickly restores their life and prosperity. They find themselves secure in every trial. Job cannot miss the implication: if he feels he has suffered unjustly, not only is he insufficiently humble, but he fails to recognize the gracious, chastening hand of God Almighty, and therefore he remains under God’s rod instead of finding mercy. “We have examined this,” Eliphaz concludes rather pompously, “and it is true. So hear it and apply it to yourself” (5:27).
What Eliphaz says carries some measure of truth. God does indeed chasten his children (Prov. 3:11–12; Heb. 12:5–6). But this presupposes that they need it; God certainly does not chasten his children when they do not need it. Eliphaz thus presupposes that Job deserves God’s chastening; readers of chapter 1 know he is mistaken. True, God saves the humble and abases those whose eyes are haughty (Ps. 18:27); but Eliphaz mistakenly assumes that Job must be haughty, or he would not be suffering. So here is a lesson: false or improper application of genuine truth may be heartless and cruel—and, as here, it may say false things about God.

Carson, D. A. (1998). For the love of God: a daily companion for discovering the riches of God’s Word. (Vol. 2, p. 63). Crossway Books.

FEBRUARY 5 | Genesis 38; Mark 8; Job 4; Romans 8

UNDER QUESTIONING, the disciples confess who Jesus is (Mark 8:27–30). Christ is the Greek form of Messiah, which has a Hebrew background. This confession triggers a flood of fresh revelation from the Lord Jesus (8:31–38). Now he teaches that the Son of Man “must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, chief priests and teachers of the law, and that he must be killed and after three days rise again” (8:31). As Mark points out, Jesus “spoke plainly about this” (8:32). Apparently earlier comment on the subject was far more veiled.
Living as we do on this side of the cross, it is easy for us to be a bit condescending about Peter’s reaction and rebuke of the Master (8:32). From Peter’s perspective, Jesus simply had to be wrong on this subject. After all, messiahs don’t get killed: they win. And how could a God-anointed, miracle-working Messiah like Jesus lose? Peter was wrong, of course, profoundly wrong. For even the disciples had not yet grasped that Jesus the Messiah was simultaneously conquering King and Suffering Servant.
But there was more to come. Not only did Jesus insist that he himself was going to suffer and die and rise again, but he also insisted that each of his followers “must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me” (8:34). To a first-century ear, such language was shocking. “To take up your cross” did not mean putting up with a toothache, job loss, or personal disability. Crucifixion was universally viewed as the most barbaric of Roman forms of execution, scarcely to be mentioned in polite company. The condemned criminal “picked up his cross,” i.e., picked up the cross-member and carried it to the place of execution. If it was your lot to pick up your cross, there was no hope for you. There was only an ignominious and excruciating death.
Yet that is the language Jesus uses. For what all of his disciples must learn is that to be a follower of Jesus entails a painful renunciation of self-interest and a wholehearted turn to Jesus’ interests. Yet Jesus’ blunt language is not an invitation to spiritual masochism, but to life and bounty. For it is an infallible rule of the kingdom that self-focus issues in death, while “whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it” (8:35). Only for a few will this commitment entail loss of physical life; for all of us it means death to self, discipleship to Jesus. And that includes a glad confession of Jesus, and principled refusal to be ashamed of Jesus and his words in this adulterous and sinful generation (8:38).

Carson, D. A. (1998). For the love of God: a daily companion for discovering the riches of God’s Word. (Vol. 1, p. 62). Crossway Books.

THE FIRST SPEECH OF ELIPHAZ takes up two chapters. In the first part (Job 4), Eliphaz gives shape to his argument:
(1) The opening lines are seductive (4:2–4). One might almost think that Eliphaz is respectfully pursuing permission to offer helpful counsel to Job, in the same way that Job in times past has offered helpful counsel to others. But that is not it at all. Eliphaz is not asking permission; rather, he is fixing blame on Job because he is discouraged. It turns out, Eliphaz says, that the great Job who has helped others cannot cope when he faces a bit of trouble himself (4:5).
(2) The next verse transitions to the heart of Eliphaz’s argument: “Should not your piety be your confidence and your blameless ways your hope?” (4:6). In other words, if Job were as pious and as blameless as many had believed, either he would not be in this fix, or else he would at least be able to live above discouragement. The disasters that have befallen Job, and Job’s reactions to them, prove that Job is hiding shame or guilt that must be confronted.
(3) In brief, Eliphaz holds that in God’s universe you get what you deserve (4:7). God is in charge, and God is good, so you reap what you sow (4:8).
(4) Eliphaz claims nothing less than revelation to ground his argument (4:12–21). In some sort of night vision, he says, a spirit glided by his face (4:15) and uttered words of supreme importance: “Can a mortal be more righteous than God? Can a man be more pure than his Maker?” (4:17). God is so transcendently powerful and just that even the angels that surround him are tawdry and untrustworthy in his eyes. So human beings, “those who live in houses of clay, whose foundations are in the dust” (4:19), are less significant, less reliable. The implication, then, is that a man like Job should simply admit his frailty, his error, his sin, and stop pretending that what has befallen him is anything other than what he deserves. The way Job is carrying on, Eliphaz implies, he is in danger of impugning the God whose justice is far beyond human assessment or comprehension.
We should pause to evaluate Eliphaz’s argument. At one level, Eliphaz is right: God is utterly just, transcendently holy. The Bible elsewhere avers that a man reaps what he sows (e.g., Prov. 22:8; Gal. 6:7). But these truths, by themselves, may overlook two factors. First, the time frame in which the wheels of God’s justice grind is sometimes very long. Eliphaz seems to hold to a rather rapid and obvious tit-for-tat system of recompense. Second, Eliphaz has no category for innocent suffering, so he is embarking on a course that condemns an innocent man.

Carson, D. A. (1998). For the love of God: a daily companion for discovering the riches of God’s Word. (Vol. 2, p. 62). Crossway Books.

December 15 | Patience to Wait

Scripture Reading: Job 19:23–26

Key Verse: Job 2:10

“Shall we indeed accept good from God, and shall we not accept adversity?” In all this Job did not sin with his lips.

Job was someone who knew pain. We read in the first two chapters of the book of Job that everything in his life—his family, wealth, and health—was taken away from him. It is clear that at this point, Job had nothing … except faith. Job did not know why his life had taken such a dramatic, insufferable turn. However, he remained steadfast in his conviction that God was able to restore his life.

Twice in the opening chapters of the book, the text says Job did not sin or abandon God during his time of loss (Job 1:22; 2:10). Moreover, Job underscores the total sovereignty of God by proclaiming, “Shall we indeed accept good from God, and shall we not accept adversity?” (Job 2:10).

It is important to see, though, that Job did not mask his pain with a false smile, and he did not belittle his own problems in order to “protect” God from blame. Job was honest about his despair.

Despite his brokenness, however, Job praised God’s faithfulness. Chapter 19, which contains Job’s heartbreaking recount of all that he has lost, concludes with the assurance that God, his Redeemer, not only lives but will also come to restore that which has been lost. Even in the darkest pain, Job knew that God was in control.

If you are in the midst of trial, praise God for His faithfulness. Ask God for the patience to wait for the coming day when He will make His power known to you.

Lord, it is easy to give in to despondency in the face of adversity. Thank You that no matter how deep the hole we are in, Your arms can reach us there.¹

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¹  Stanley, C. F. (2006). Pathways to his presence (p. 366). Thomas Nelson Publishers.

Silence and Suffering | Alistair Begg Daily Devotional

“Now when Job’s three friends heard of all this evil that had come upon him, they came each from his own place … And they sat with him on the ground seven days and seven nights, and no one spoke a word to him … Then Eliphaz the Temanite answered and said: “If one ventures a word with you, will you be impatient? Yet who can keep from speaking?””

Job 2:11, Job 2:13, Job 13:1–2

Job’s friends show us how to respond when someone is going through the depths of pain and sorrow—and then they show us how not to.

Job’s friends had front-row seats in witnessing the depth of his suffering, and they struggled to bring him any measure of comfort by their words. Their eventual response was heavily theoretical and quite unhelpful.

There is great danger in commenting on affliction or speaking to someone who is suffering if we have either not experienced something similar or have not taken time to listen to them well and to pray to God humbly. Job 16 describes these same friends as miserable comforters—those who “could join words together” against Job and whose words had no end (16:4).

In search of an instant cure and a quick answer to Job’s suffering, his friends piled on the accusations. Zophar in particular reminded Job that he deserved worse than what he was currently experiencing (Job 11:4-6). In the same vein, Eliphaz suggested that maybe Job had been wandering from God and needed to listen more carefully to Him (22:21-23). These men adopted an overly simplistic approach to Job’s suffering—an approach which hurt rather than healed. They were quick to the draw and ready with an answer to any and all of Job’s laments. When Eliphaz asked, when he first opened his mouth, “Who can keep from speaking?” he should have answered, “Me”!

Job was scathing about their means of counseling him: “You whitewash with lies; worthless physicians are you all. Oh that you would keep silent, and it would be your wisdom!” (Job 13:4-5). And in fact, his friends had done exactly that—to begin with. They had sat with him for a week without speaking.

In the experience of suffering, silence in the sufferer’s presence is often a far greater aid than many words. It is quite possible that Job would have experienced greater comfort and companionship had his friends maintained their initial response: joining him on the ground, sitting, not speaking a single word.

Silence is often a missing ingredient in our response to suffering. While it is certainly not the only response that is needed, it is vastly undervalued. If we endeavor, without an agenda, to unplug from all the noise around us and listen to the voices of the suffering, we might make far more progress in that silent contemplation than any of us imagine. And we may then have far more useful things to say, both in what we say and in how we say it. Job certainly thought so. Is there someone whom you could bless with your quiet presence this week?

Going Deeper: Psalms 42–43

Devotional material is taken from the Truth For Life daily devotionals by Alistair Begg, published by The Good Book Company, thegoodbook.com. Used by Truth For Life with permission. Copyright © 2021, 2022, The Good Book Company.

https://www.truthforlife.org/devotionals/alistair-begg/10/19/2024/

“Consider the Wonders of God” | Founders Ministries

“Consider the Wonders of God”

Job 36:19-37:24

As Elihu winds down his theodicy presented to the destitute Job, he condenses his presentation to two truths. We find these in verses 22 and 23: “Behold, God is exalted in power; … and who has said, ‘You have done wrong?’” God is all powerful and nothing can hinder his accomplishing his will. God is perfectly just, so that the will he accomplishes is an expression of justice. In verses 19-21, Elihu mentions three refuges that sinners seek in order to avoid reconciliation with God’s holy wrath. These attempts at refuge from divine judgment show their disdain for the ransom God provided.

One of these hiding places to which men look is riches. Do riches have strength to give final fulfillment to life? Can they guard them from the coming of righteous judgment? They need to hear the warning of James: “Come now, you rich, and howl for the miseries that are coming upon you. Your riches have rotted and your garments are motheaten” (James 5:1, 2).

Others simply yearn for death as an escape from earthly troubles. “Do not long for the night,” says Elihu. People vanish from their place but their life before God does not end. Earlier, Job simply wished not to be (Job 3:1-19). But death, early or late, does not eliminate the appointment we have with God: “It is appointed unto man once to die and after that the judgment” (Hebrews 9:27).

Others simply throw aside any sense of personal responsibility before God and move toward deeper indulgence in evil (21). They reason that unbounded pursuit of pleasure will anesthetize the pain of judgment. They forfeit the lesson that God’s affliction is bringing them.

One of the often under-discussed principles of the Reformation was that of simplicity.

Mere men in any of these conditions either of power or privilege should not exalt themselves but remember that God alone is exalted and he alone judges and reveals truth (22-23). God is the omnipotent one and there is no manifestation of power in the world but that it is derived from him (John 19:10, 11). God knows all things and acts always according to his purposes, so we may ask with Elihu, “Who is a teacher like him?” God knows, not through investigation or logic, but through invention. All things that exist and their relations with all other things are the products of his making. He made all things that are not himself and he continues to uphold all of these very things. Nothing exists that he does not know and maintain in being perfectly, and all he says about anything is true. “Who is a teacher like him?”

God works all things after the counsel of his own will (Ephesians 1: 11), so no one may question his operation of the world or of their own lives. Is anyone above him or does anyone give directions to the eternal, all-wise, all powerful one? “Who has appointed him his way?” (23a). He is the thrice holy, all righteous One. He makes no mistakes and there is no moral flaw in him. What he determines for the testing, sanctifying, and judging of men all is in accord with a perfect righteousness that is endemic to his very nature. “Who has said, ‘You have done wrong?’”

Elihu then points to the evidence that clouds, rain, and lightning give of the power and moral purpose of God. Lightning is unpredictable, terrorizing, and impressively beautiful, and all is in the hand of God to accomplish his precise purpose (36:32; 37:2-5, 11-13). With the mystery that such everyday phenomena pose before human observation, who can place a limit on the wisdom, power, or being of God? The curling, color, and movement of the clouds, along with their distillation into rain or snow for terror or for life-giving sustenance (36:31; 37:5-10), show that God does not bend his power or his sovereign purpose to the control of man.

As we exalt his work, we are led to exalt him (36:24, 26; 37:1). Considering, however, the magnitude of his work and how little of it we know, surely we must acknowledge that he is truly incomprehensible. “Do you know about the layers of the thick clouds, the wonders of one perfect in knowledge?” (37:16). His infinity in all that is excellent combined with his eternity of being defy any finite being—all his creatures—from laying claim to any kind of knowledge that would justify complaint against him (37:14-20). His power is uncontrollable and reflects his “awesome majesty” (37:22). As his might is illimitable and an absolute expression of his nature, so his justice and righteousness ride on the wings of his power in absolute purity (37:23).

God works all things after the counsel of his own will, so no one may question his operation of the world or of their own lives.

Given this combination of power and good, we must concede that there is no such thing as innocent suffering except in the one case of the One who suffered the “just for the unjust.” (1 Peter 3:18). When we proportion temporal suffering to apparent temporal evil, we might be puzzled as to why the apparently good suffer and the apparently less-good prosper; but this sense of disproportion finds plausibility only because of our limited and dull reflections on divine holiness. If our knowledge of the moral character of a fallen world and fallen human beings were truly commensurate with the reality, we would immediately concede the justice of God in any infliction of punishment or sanctifying discipline.

We must not forget that God’s granting of pleasure in this life should drive us to see the bountiful nature of his goodness and mercy. Any interruption of our pleasure in this life, whether mild or severe, is designed to bring us to a knowledge of sin and the need for a mediator that can restore righteousness, for God will not be finally reconciled to us apart from true and complete righteousness. “We have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the Righteous; and he is the propitiation for our sins” (1 John 2:1, 2).

Elihu has played the role of John the Baptist. He has been the voice of one crying in the wilderness to prepare the way of the Lord. Now the Lord shows up to speak to Job.

The post “Consider the Wonders of God” appeared first on Founders Ministries.