A long time ago, when I was just starting out in ministry, a friend faced a crisis in his life.  Like many of us, I had no idea what to say or how to be with him as he sobbed and cried out to God.  And so I wasn’t.  I left him to face his pain alone because I was ignorant and afraid myself.  And I regret this to this day.

When people are truly and deeply hurting, we don’t know what they want from us, so we often avoid them.  The truth is that they too usually don’t know what they want from us, but almost universally, the one thing they are sure of is that they don’t want to be alone.  They want people with them, even if they don’t say a word.  It’s called the Ministry of Presence, and it is one of the most powerful ministries we can offer.  Occasionally words of care and love are helpful, but more often than not, words are hindrances to the real, incarnational ministry we offer by just sitting with them in listening silence.

Job’s friends understood this for a while, but then they began to show their true colors.  As they opened their mouths to speak, we begin to see all the Ministry of Presence they offered Job was just to watch for an opening to give advice, and advice is one thing that grieving people universally DON’T need.

And so Eliphaz begins to talk and his presence with Job becomes a burden rather than a blessing.  As he questions Job’s righteousness, he begins a theme that will last the rest of the book.

When we sit with a hurting person, it is perfectly fine to sit in silence.  It is fine to ask what they might need.  It is not fine, however, to question their motives, behaviors, and righteousness.

I was speaking with a friend recently about typical opinion that the God of the New Testament is a God of grace as shown in Jesus Christ, while the God of the Old Testament is a God of rules and wrath as shown through the Law and Prophets.  I mentioned that some find it easy and some difficult to hold this opinion while simultaneously stating that God never changes.  And my friend pointed me to the reading for today.

Job is the oldest writing we have of all the biblical texts, predating even Genesis in its writing though not its content.  And in this, the oldest writing we have, we find a God who is not bound by rules and wrath.  In fact, the God of Job seems to be neither a God of wrath nor a God of grace.  This is what makes Job such a confusing book for modern readers.

God seems to act like the gods of Roman and Greek myth, whimsical in His rulings, unpredictable in His decisions.  Job’s misfortunes are not the result of his unrighteousness but rather his righteousness.  God releases Satan on him not to teach him a lesson but to test his faith.  This is deeply disturbing for we who want a fair, predictable, dare i say controllable, God.

I believe the problem with this passage is that no story is just a passage.  Our tendency to read the bible in short, impatient dribbles leads us to this confusion.  the book of Job is just that – a book – and we need to read the entire book to understand any small part of it.  And once we read the entire book, we can begin to understand that these chapters are just the setup for the true lessons.

So let’s keep reading together, and once we get to the end, we can talk about the whole story as one lesson.

As Stephen stood before the crowd that would eventually kill him, he had one last chance to convince them that Jesus was truly the Messiah for whom they had been waiting.  And so he reminded them of their identity.  He took them back to the beginning, to Abraham.  And as he traced their history, he tried to remind them of who they were not just in the current heat of the moment, but who they were as a people.

I wonder sometimes if we need this same reminder.  I wonder if we are so enamored, along with the rest of our society, with the “now” that we forget who we were.   I hear students of history sigh deeply as they quote the famous maxim, “to ignore the past is to be doomed to repeat it”.

We begin with Christ, His death and resurrection.  We begin with Swedish conventicles.  We begin at a meeting in Swede Bend, IA in 1885.  We begin 41 years ago with a vision to plant a church in Libertyville, IL.  We each begin at our conversion.

It is too easy to get wrapped up in the issues and anger of the day.  We have to discipline ourselves to let the emotions wash over us, acknowledge them, but not let them dictate our actions.  We have to be driven by our theology, grown and cultivated from the beginning and through time.  We, like the Sanhedrin of Stephen’s day, must remember who we are.

As Stephen stood before the crowd that would eventually kill him, he had one last chance to convince them that Jesus was truly the Messiah for whom they had been waiting.  And so he reminded them of their identity.  He took them back to the beginning, to Abraham.  And as he traced their history, he tried to remind them of who they were not just in the current heat of the moment, but who they were as a people.

I wonder sometimes if we need this same reminder.  I wonder if we are so enamored, along with the rest of our society, with the “now” that we forget who we were.   I hear students of history sigh deeply as they quote the famous maxim, “to ignore the past is to be doomed to repeat it”.

We begin with Christ, His death and resurrection.  We begin with Swedish conventicles.  We begin at a meeting in Swede Bend, IA in 1885.  We begin 41 years ago with a vision to plant a church in Libertyville, IL.  We each begin at our conversion.

It is too easy to get wrapped up in the issues and anger of the day.  We have to discipline ourselves to let the emotions wash over us, acknowledge them, but not let them dictate our actions.  We have to be driven by our theology, grown and cultivated from the beginning and through time.  We, like the Sanhedrin of Stephen’s day, must remember who we are.

God had commanded His people to care for the orphans and widows, and this new movement, called The Way by some, which based itself on following Jesus Christ, sought to obey this law.  But they did so based on the lenses they had developed, been given, grown up with.  They cared for the Jewish widows “in obedience to the law”, but neglected the Hellenistic (non-Jewish) widows.  This was normal for a Jewish movement, but was not normal for followers of God.

And so the Hellenistic Jews complained.  And now the leadership had a choice – do they follow their expectations and convince themselves that the old ways of following the Law still held, or do they follow the law of love and change the expectations?  Was following Christ about obeying the law as they always had or following Christ’s new law of love in a new way?

Thankfully, they chose the new way, the new Way of Christ’s love, and appointed the first deacons in history.  These 7 men were tasked with caring for EVERYONE, not just the obedient Jews.  And because they did, their reputation spread and their numbers grew.

We face this choice again and again in our faith.  Some have posited the choice in terms of Pietism vs. Evangelicalism.  In the Covenant, we are made up of both.  Evangelicals focus on belief and obedience.  This side asks, “Where is it written?” first.  Pietists focus on relationship and love.  This side asks, “How’s your walk with God?” first.  We need both sides, but which will take dominance?  For the early church, their Pietism led the way.  Will we do the same?