Lectionary reading: The EIGHTEENTH SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME - October 4, 2009

Job 1:1; 2:1-10

There was once a man in the land of Uz whose name was Job. That man was blameless and upright, one who feared God and turned away from evil.

13.1 by Larry Patten

In the book of Job God gave Satan permission to test a blameless and upright man.

Do you agree or disagree with the statement above? Does it poorly describe or adequately summarize Job? Is it helpful or confusing? Though I have yet to cast my first words through the Twitter portal, couldn’t I launch this sixteen-word and eighty-character (including spaces) sentence without being dinged for alphabet overuse?

My summary could be shorter and seriously longer. There’s always an editorial path to brevity, to carving away another word. Conversely, the book of Job spans forty-two chapters and more information begs to be added about the upright man’s friends, miseries, and divine questions. I’m sure—whether in the Twitterly or scholarly world—others could easily improve my attempt.

And yet my first curiosity remains. Where does your pondering about Job, God, Satan, and testing lead you?

As your pondering continues, let me take you on a bicycle ride with me. Don’t worry; we’ll return to Uz’s zip code.

Recently, cruising my morning bike route, I spied a runner about a football field’s length ahead of me. No surprise. While pedaling through my fair city I’ll pass or be passed by other bicyclists, runners, parents with strollers, fast walkers, faster roller-bladers, and even the occasional guy on wheeled skis. I wave to many of them. Many wave back. I flash an encouraging thumbs-up whenever I can. Fellow bikers parallel me and we engage in stimulating conversations like . . .

“How’re you?”

“Fine.”

“Nice day.”

“Yup.”

And on we pedal.

Yesterday there was that runner, her pace slow and steady. From afar she wore a vibrant pink T-shirt with bold indecipherable lettering on the back. As I drew near the words became readable. And enigmatically simple:

13.1

That was it. Three huge black numbers on a moving pink backdrop. What did it mean? Enquiring minds wanted to know! I slowed.

Here’s what I guessed: I Corinthians 13:1-13. That must be it! We do live in Twitter times where spare statements summarize complex messages. We text with U representing you and L8 indicating late. Squeeze it, compress it, abbreviate it . . . our lives are on afterburner.

13.1. Of course it must be Biblical! I view the world through the lens of my background.

I rode next to her and wished her a good morning. She smiled and kept her steady pace. Though middle-aged and a tad overweight, her sweat-streaked forehead and rhythmic arm movement indicated commitment to her exercise.

“What does thirteen point one mean?”

Unplugging her iPod, she never broke stride as she answered, “It’s a half-marathon.”

Of course. Double 13.1 to get 26.2. Those are the miles Pheidippides, the legendary Greek messenger, ran between Marathon and Athens.

On she ran. Steady, slow, wearing a pink declaration of a goal or an achievement or both.

I Googled 13.1 the next day and the first hits included radio station nicknames, footnotes from legal documents, and—yes—references to half-marathons. I gulped more Google and never saw any Biblical verses.

Meanwhile, back in Uz, how did you react to my summary?

A few months ago I had an awkward discussion with a dinner companion about the Bible, including the book of Job. One way to convey our disagreement—oops, I mean discussion—boils down to an adjective. I’ll repeat my summary and add that tricky word.

In the fictional book of Job God gave Satan permission to test a blameless and upright man.

Isn’t that still Twitterable? I’m sure it’s under the limit. But my one-word addition created tension. My background leads me to read Job as a powerful work of . . . fiction. I don’t believe God conspired to test people. I don’t believe Job was a real person from Uz or that Satan exists. But my table companion did. Indeed, many people do.

This always perplexes me. I think Job represents one of the most magnificent works ever written. It grappled with fundamental issues. Loss. Death. Suffering. Faith. Doubt. Questions. God’s glory. The Holy’s enigmatic ways. But I believe Job explored these issues just like Jesus’ parables did. Stories. Make believe. Let me tell you a tale . . .

I’m glad I slowed my bike to share a moment with the runner. In the seconds of conversation we had, I’d never claim to know her. But by asking and listening I learned a little. I had a reminder that my view of the world can be skewed and selective.

Too many—I’m one of them—argue about whether or not books like Job are fact or fancy. All too often both sides are so enamored with being right that we can’t see how much everyone, like Job, suffers.

in Peace,

Larry Patten

(written on September 22, 2009)