Mass readings for the 5th Sunday in Ordinary Time:
Job 7.1-4, 6-7 Psalm 147.1-6 1 Corinthians 9.16-19, 22-23 Mark 1.29-39
I’ve mentioned how the readings each week are connected, how we are to put them in conversation, seeing how they mutually open up to us the meanings in each with the gospel as the key text. Hearing this week’s scriptures, it’s hard not to find oneself thinking about the hardships of life. The Book of Job has that in spades; then we have our gospel passage that opens with Jesus arriving at Peter’s house, learning that someone there is sick; and later, the house is besieged by many others who are ill, and those possessed by demons (I spoke about last week). We are told, “the whole city was gathered at their door.”
While the epistle might not directly connect to these scriptures thematically, it nonetheless speaks of our proper response in the midst of our own trials and tribulations – we are, as the body of Christ in the world, a community of immense variety in personality, capability and experience, we have a capacity to become all things to all people, so as to be the medium of God’s grace to save some (sadly, not all, but some); and we do this for the sake of the Gospel and to share in the blessings of God.
The Book of Job has been called the first novel (there have been many retellings of this story in modern novels). I think it can be understood both as scripture, and as a masterpiece of art. It poses an unlikely scenario, a wager between God and the Devil with Job the innocent upon whom God has gambled. This story is an exploration of the problem of suffering, and the nature of authentic faith.
Some Christians regard Job as an historical person, the mainstream of Jewish rabbinic commentary say he was, and Islam regards him as a prophet and maintains several places as the location of his tomb which is a curious kind of popularity – why do so many want to claim to be the custodian of his earthly remains?
While Job gets a mention in the book of the prophet Ezekiel, as being a righteous man, there is nothing in that brief reference to tie him to this particular text. Yet the Job of this famous book of the Bible is very real to a great many people, more real than a lot of other personalities we encounter in scripture; and likely because we might struggle to imagine ourselves as a prophet, or a hero of the faith, but many of us know intense suffering.
The story we know, even if we haven’t read it, was composed no earlier than the 6th century BC; that is, right around the time of the decline and eventual conquest of Judea, the destruction of Jerusalem and the Babylonian exile when the leadership, political, cultural and religious was carted off to Babylon, and the people were made subject to foreign rule. So, bad times for the Jews. Indeed, traumatic times, which is why this story makes so much sense as a meditation on the suffering of the righteous.
Now why doesn’t the story delve into the politics, the social climate, the religious crisis that were the cause of these catastrophes? After all, we speculate the aftermath of these is the context in which the author wrote. Why does it focus on one person and present the circumstances as being entirely apart from a history that people would have known?
Well, I suppose it’s because it doesn’t want to get lost in all that detail, the minutiae of history, sociological and political, because then it is apt to forget the problem of suffering itself and just look for someone to blame: the king, the priests, the society, the culture, without delving into the problem. The cause is ultimately immaterial if, for the most part, the sufferer is essentially innocent; and it would ignore the urgent question for us, the suffering, what are we to do?
Most of us here are humble enough to acknowledge we’re sinners; some making better progress toward sainthood than others. Most of us have had little access to political and economic power so as to affect the big issues of our day: the economy, international affairs, the popular culture. We get to vote periodically, and perhaps, regret our vote. We’ve consumed the products of our culture in the form of the media’s many entertainments, that on reflection, were morally degenerate; and then have subsequently repented of that and stopped partaking. We’re far from notorious in rejecting Christian morals and gospel ethics. And yet, look where we are as a society, in cultural, economic and political terms. One’s righteousness, as feeble or firm as it might be, has been outweighed by the sinfulness of the many who support the powerful who are corrupt and corrupting of us – and in some instances, willfully, even gladly, embracing evils in the name of ending suffering.
I think most of us try to live healthy, but that’s often more difficult than we appreciate, but again, without chain-smoking, or having poor eating and exercise habits, we become ill, sometimes seriously. Is there something in our environment causing this? Again, factors beyond our control: air and water quality, the additives in foods, the materials from which our homes are constructed, the unseen mould and mildew in our houses, the bad advice of public health officials and government agencies (remember how the Canada food guide encouraged generations to cut out healthy fat and bulk up on carbs spurring an epidemic of diabetes?). Is this properly speaking your fault or my fault? It may, indeed, be the fault of some manufacturer, the result of the negligence of government, both are strangely incurious as what is causing people to become sick and die these days in excess of what would be statistically expected; or it could be simply ignorance – not knowing what we don’t know.
Yes, one can become an activist on these issues, but that doesn’t guarantee a safe environment – indeed, some environmental initiatives are turning out to be disastrous for the wildlife so many claim is the motivation for their efforts, let alone for collective human well-being.
Again, this is all to say, we can get caught up in who to blame for our predicament, but question remains: what do we need to do in the midst of our suffering?
Well, we need to turn to God, to go crowd around that door at Peter’s house. Not naively assuming Christ will emerge and take it all away from us. We know that everyone Jesus healed eventually did die; that in the story of Job, he has his health and wealth restored to him, but was laid in one of those tombs that are dotted around the Middle East. We need a healing that restores us eternally.
Our ultimate redemption lies in our allegiance to Truth and Love, Justice and Peace as expressed in our faith and our hope. To abandon these and despair is to intensify our suffering, and make us even more desperate, and fearful, and so vulnerable to the evil that stalks us like a ravenous beast.
You may have read of the legislative initiatives to expand assisted suicide, paused until the government renews its mandate at the next election, and then it can claim the policy has been endorsed by the Canadian electorate – never mind that most elections in this country turn on economic issues. You may also be aware of changes coming soon to the Criminal Code, Bill C-3, that makes it punishable to instill fear in someone so as to impede their access to health services – and we know too well how the definition of “health” services has been expanded to cover all sorts of death-dealing procedures. Does the Christian opposition to these because they imperil the immortal soul constitute just the sort of fear-making contemplated in these changes? Is it just the threat of violent attack that is being legislated against? I would have thought that already covered: making threats is already a criminal offense; carrying them out, definitely so. Do we trust those in power to not abuse this curious change? The events of recent years do give me pause.
In the story of Job, his own wife tells him to curse God and die. And yet, Job refuses. His words of hope are repeated to this day, in our Catholic funeral rites, “I know that my redeemer lives… and I will see him in my flesh.”
Life is hard, suffering a big part of it. I’m making no bid for sympathy, but I’ve suffered. I’ve laid myself down, like Peter’s mother-in-law, like so many other stories of the gospels, and Jesus is summoned. And it’s in that, his coming, that I have risen from my bed of pain, and returned to life, serving Christ, serving my God who is love and truth. Yet, you know, the pain is never entirely gone, the suffering wholly put away from me. Like Paul, I carry it as a reminder of what truly sustains me; it keeps me humble, it keeps me hopeful, it keeps me, and I pray all of us, proclaiming the Good News in His Name. Amen.