Job 8:8The Message“Put the question to our ancestors, study what they learned from their ancestors. For we’re newcomers at this, with a lot to learn, and not too long to learn it. So why not let the ancients teach you, tell you what’s what, instruct you in what they knew from experience? Can mighty pine trees grow tall without soil? Can luscious tomatoes flourish without water? Blossoming flowers look beautiful before they’re cut or picked, but without soil or water they wither more quickly than grass. That’s what happens to all who forget God— all their hopes come to nothing. They hang their life from one thin thread, they hitch their fate to a spider web. One jiggle and the thread breaks, one jab and the web collapses. Or they’re like weeds springing up in the sunshine, invading the garden, Spreading everywhere, overtaking the flowers, getting a foothold even in the rocks. But when the gardener rips them out by the roots, the garden doesn’t miss them one bit. The sooner the godless are gone, the better; then good plants can grow in their place. See the chapter |
“Yes, I’ve seen all this with my own eyes, heard and understood it with my very own ears. Everything you know, I know, so I’m not taking a backseat to any of you. I’m taking my case straight to God Almighty; I’ve had it with you—I’m going directly to God. You graffiti my life with lies. You’re a bunch of pompous quacks! I wish you’d shut your mouths— silence is your only claim to wisdom.
“Don’t you even know the basics, how things have been since the earliest days, when Adam and Eve were first placed on earth? The good times of the wicked are short-lived; godless joy is only momentary. The evil might become world famous, strutting at the head of the celebrity parade, But still end up in a pile of dung. Acquaintances look at them with disgust and say, ‘What’s that?’ They fly off like a dream that can’t be remembered, like a shadowy illusion that vanishes in the light. Though once notorious public figures, now they’re nobodies, unnoticed, whether they come or go. Their children will go begging on skid row, and they’ll have to give back their ill-gotten gain. Right in the prime of life, and youthful and vigorous, they’ll die.
We’ve been hearing about this, God, all our lives. Our fathers told us the stories their fathers told them, How single-handedly you weeded out the godless from the fields and planted us, How you sent those people packing but gave us a fresh start. We didn’t fight for this land; we didn’t work for it—it was a gift! You gave it, smiling as you gave it, delighting as you gave it.
These are all warning markers—danger!—in our history books, written down so that we don’t repeat their mistakes. Our positions in the story are parallel—they at the beginning, we at the end—and we are just as capable of messing it up as they were. Don’t be so naive and self-confident. You’re not exempt. You could fall flat on your face as easily as anyone else. Forget about self-confidence; it’s useless. Cultivate God-confidence.
Ask questions. Find out what has been going on all these years before you were born. From the day God created man and woman on this Earth, and from the horizon in the east to the horizon in the west—as far back as you can imagine and as far away as you can imagine—has as great a thing as this ever happened? Has anyone ever heard of such a thing? Has a people ever heard, as you did, a god speaking out of the middle of the fire and lived to tell the story?