( Sermon Job 19:19-27 ) [ German Sermon ] [ Announcements (German)386.35 KB ]
Life is not fair.
Herbert Grönemeyer, a German musician whose songs I like very much, wrote a song when his wife died of cancer much too early.
Life is not fair.
His best-selling record - after that misfortune.
Perhaps because it speaks of real feelings and so many can empathize with that.
Life is not fair.
When your child dies.
Life is not fair.
When you lose your job and you have no security, when you don't know how to provide for your family and that doesn't let you sleep at night and makes you sick from the inside.
Life is not fair.
These are just examples of things that can happen, and everyone will know someone who has had a similar experience or has himself experienced something like this. Some may now think, this happens to others, but not to me. And then... it hits you. Unexpectedly.
And you do not know what to say.
Or you say things that are not helpful to those affected.
"It'll be okay," "Time heals all wounds." "After rain comes sunshine." "It was God's will."
I would like to tell you about Job. He, too, once had a good life. For some reason everything was going really well. He had a wife and kids, a house, and friends. And then, suddenly, his idyllic life starts to crumble. His cattle herds are looted. Enemies massacre his employees. His daughters and sons are killed in a collapsing house. Finally, Job falls ill, his body is covered with boils.
His friends, at first devoted to him, turn their backs on him. They do not understand his situation. Job laments his suffering and despair:
19All my intimate friends detest me; those I love, have turned against me.
20 I am nothing but skin and bones; I have escaped only by the skin of my teeth.
21 “Have pity on me, my friends, have pity, for the hand of God has struck me.
22 Why do you pursue me as God does? Will you never get enough of my flesh?
Dear congregation, it is hard to endure someone’s suffering. Especially when the suffering comes so completely out of nowhere. A sudden death. A terrible diagnosis. Someone who is trapped in their grief and can't find a way out. Someone who just can't get back on his feet or who stands in his own light.
At first, there are many people with understanding and compassion. And then ... over time ... they become less.
Because it can be embarrassing when you can't "do" anything.
Because you are confronted you with yourself and your own fear when you see someone suffering beside you.
And oh, because you might secretly think, luckily it didn’t happen to me.
And then maybe you avoid that person.
Or you mute your phone.
Or you start to say only encouraging words of perseverance, even if you don't believe them yourself.
And maybe you even secretly think: It’s time she pulled herself together and got back on her feet. Enough is enough. The situation he is in is a little bit his own fault. And you search and search for explanations to make things easier. And you give well-intentioned advice. But we all know, well-meant is not necessarily good.
There must be a reason for what has happened. Or a hidden meaning that you don’t see yet but need to find. Maybe it really is punishment for something she did wrong in life.
Just like Job's friends.
But Job sees it quite differently and he refuses to see any meaning in his suffering.
23 “Oh, that my words were recorded, that they were written on a scroll,
24 that they were inscribed with an iron tool on lead or engraved in rock forever!
25 I know that my redeemer lives, and that in the end he will stand on the earth.
26 And after my skin has been destroyed, yet in my flesh I will see God.
Job complains. He is at odds with God and the world. All the world should know and be reminded that he is suffering unjustly, that God is acting terribly towards him.
Yes, it is important for Job and for all those in a comparable situation to lament, to cry out at what has happened, to grapple with God and the world.
God can endure that. The struggling Job and us, too.
And bad things will happen again and again, because things rarely get good all at once. There is no manual for how often bad things can happen. Mourning over a loss is as individual and unique as every human being.
And there are no simple recipes for what to do.
And not one of us can really feel what another person is feeling.
Job now sits there with his skin broken. Emaciated to the bone. I can almost see him sitting there.
And in all that misery, he says: I know that my Redeemer lives. I will see God.
I would like to sit next to Job. And see through his eyes. And feel what it is like to have such confidence. Despite everything. And to be so sure that the Redeemer lives, and the future will be good.
It is as if Job reminds God, look here, here I am, physically, spiritually, and mentally at my end. By having God in mind, he makes room for longing and hope.
I know that my Redeemer lives, I will see him!
Perhaps this is Job's secret. He allows himself to feel the hurt and he cries out at it. He is not stuck IN his situation by trying to make sense of it or looking for an explanation that puts things into perspective and covers everything up. Instead, by looking THROUGH the curtain of pain and misery he can see another reality.
And so, I want to call out to Job's friends, and sometimes to myself: Sit down next to them! Look through the eyes of the other. No quick help, no good advice, no cheap consolation. But simply endure it together, the senseless and terrible, the incomprehensible.
Together, hand in hand, we realize that life is not fair.
Especially in our community, our church congregation, where we are walking the path of life together.
Isn't that what Jesus meant when he spoke about serving one another? I am sure that serving includes walking together.
And sitting down together and looking through the difficulties.
At the end of the book of Job, we are told that God turned his fate for the better and he got much more than he had at the beginning. To me, I must say, that sounds too much like a fairy tale.
You might think all is well again, but I wonder if that is the case?
Job's children did not come back to life, that is for sure.
Suffering does something to you. It leaves its mark. Life changes. There will always be situations that trigger memories of hurt and loss which darken your thoughts.
And that's why I need to learn Job's secret. The ability to see through unpleasant things.
And to make room for longing and hope. And to hand over to God what is sad and tormenting and evil. And to remind him: Here I am!
And to hope through it all:
27 I will see him with my own eyes - I, and not another. How my heart yearns within me!
Amen