Friday in the 26th Week of Ordinary Time, October 4, 2024

Job 38, 1; 12-21; 40, 3-5

The Lord addressed Job out of the storm and said: “Have you ever in your lifetime commanded the morning and shown the dawn its place for taking hold of the ends of the earth, till the wicked are shaken from its surface? The earth is changed as is clay by the seal, and dyed as though it were a garment; But from the wicked the light is withheld, and the arm of pride is shattered. Have you entered into the sources of the sea, or walked about in the depths of the abyss? Have the gates of death been shown to you, or have you seen the gates of darkness? Have you comprehended the breadth of the earth? Tell me, if you know all: Which is the way to the dwelling place of light, and where is the abode of darkness, That you may take them to their boundaries and set them on their homeward paths? You know, because you were born before them, and the number of your years is great!” Then Job answered the Lord and said: “Behold, I am of little account; what can I answer you? I put my hand over my mouth. Though I have spoken once, I will not do so again; though twice, I will do so no more.”

The opening verse of today’s First Reading, taken from the website of the conference of the U.S. bishops, is confusing as written.  I have attempted to correct the problem, but here is the Revised Standard Version (Catholic Edition) translation of the same two verses, which make better sense: “Have you commanded the morning since your days began, and caused the dawn to know its place, that it might take hold of the skirts of the earth, and the wicked be shaken out of it?”  This translation is certainly more vivid than that found in the lectionary, with the Hebrew כנף [kaw-nawf] rendered as “skirts” rather than the plainer “ends” — the primary meaning of the word being “wing”.

This Reading comes at the end of the Book of Job, in which Almighty God finally does answer Job’s question: Why do I suffer when I have lived righteously all my life?  It is a question few of us could ask, since we have sinned many times in our lives.  But if even Job can suffer catastrophic loss, what is the answer?  How can any of us hope to avoid his fate, or worse?  God’s answer is to remind us that he owes us nothing, though we are forever in his debt.  He created the world for his own purpose, without us.  He created each of us out of nothing and set us in the world.  Every one of our breaths is his, every best of our hearts.  We should be grateful to have anything at all, and not grow complacent that we actually own anything.  Job, in fact, understands this, as he reveals at the beginning of the Book: “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return; the Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord” (Job 1, 21).  But when he lost his health, he began to question.

Suffering has had a place in our world ever since it and our human nature were warped and misshapen by sin.  We experience it as punishment for sin.  But the Lord Jesus, the Son of God who took on a share of our human nature, changed it when he entered into it, just as he changed water when he entered the Jordan: he entered it not to be made holy by it, but to make it holy and capable of forgiving sins.  By entering suffering — not merely touching it from the outside, as he did when he touched a sick person whom he was healing — he makes it also a means of grace.  For the Christian who suffers in this life, particularly in some service of the Lord, suffering conforms him to the Lord.  We must keep in mind: the Lord lay aside his glory so as to become like us and suffer; we suffer as Christians so that we may become like him and share in his glory.  Adam’s suffering was a sign to him that he had separated himself from God.  Jesus Christ took this suffering and made it a way to be united to him again.