Let’s Get to the Point

tornado

**This is the final post in a 4-part series on the book of Job.  Here is Part OneTwo, and Three.**

Christians commonly regard the words, “The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord” to be the epitome of right grieving.  In the last three posts we’ve examined the supposed evidence in the book of Job that supports this infamous saying, and have consistently found reasons to discount that this phrase expresses accurate theology.

In this final post, I’ll invite you again to consider that this book was not written to advocate Job’s stoic response, but to refute it.  So what then are we to learn about God’s role in suffering?  What is the point of the book of Job?

The Point of the Book of Job

We turn now to consider God’s two poetic monologues (38:1 – 42:6) and in the process will make a beautiful discovery.  Previously, we examined God’s declaration that Job spoke rightly.  This approval even included Job’s near blasphemous accusations, because they were logical and honest.  God knew that they stemmed from his faulty theology.  But as we behold the whirlwind that encases God’s presence, we find that God loved Job too much to leave his faithful servant with those fundamental misconceptions.

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And They Lived Happily Ever After

family plot

 **This is the third post in a 4-part series on the book of Job.  Here is Part One, Two, and Four.**

The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away, blessed be the name of the Lord.  In the first post of this series we asked why this saying is often regarded as the pinnacle of Christian grieving. In the second post, we concluded that the book’s prologue cannot confirm that our afflictions are specifically “Father-filtered.”  We also noted the importance of honoring this book as wisdom literature instead of a historical record.

This post will continue to examine the traditional evidence used to support Job’s infamous phrase.  As we proceed, we’ll keep pressing into the provocative notion that this book was not written to advocate Job’s stoic response, but to refute it, and to teach us a very different view of God’s role in suffering.

Job Spoke Rightly

In the shock of sudden loss, Job professes, “The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord” (Job 1:21 ESV).  The narrator notes that in doing this, Job did not sin (Job 1:22 ESV), and at the book’s close God proclaims that Job spoke rightly (Job 42:7 ESV).  Many Christians hold that these three verses provide proof that God desires this type of response when tragedy strikes. 

Yet, if we consider the entire book of Job, this proof leaves us with (at least) three concerns.  The first is that although Job speaks humbly at the book’s opening, the shock of loss soon wears off.  And while Job never wavers in his belief that God is all-controlling, he does waver in his devout submission to God.  Soon into the poetic section of the book, venomous accusations start flying from Job’s lips.

Why then, did God affirm that Job spoke rightly?

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A Deadly Wager

**This is the 2nd post in a 4-part series on the book of Job. Here is Part One, Three, & Four.**

The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away, blessed be the name of the Lord.  In my last post I questioned why this statement is often regarded as the pinnacle of Christian grieving.  Is this what the Bible requires? Is this what God desires?

For answers, we’re turning to the book of Job.  This was the phrase uttered by a really good man after a very bad day.  The verse that immediately follows Job’s profession reads, “In all this Job did not sin or charge God with wrong” (Job 1:22 ESV).  And Job’s response seems further legitimized when God asserts at the book’s close that Job spoke rightly (Job 42:7 ESV).

But I’d like to invite you to consider that this book was not written to advocate Job’s stoic response, but to refute it.  I believe the book of Job is designed to teach us a very different view of God’s role in suffering.

How to Approach the Book of Job

We should first note that there are different types of literature that comprise the Bible.  Categories for biblical books include law, history, poetry, and several others.  In order to best honor, understand, and apply Scripture to our lives, we must examine each book in a manner that suits its category.

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The Lord Gives… and Takes?

**This is the first post in a 4-part series on the book of Job.  Here is Part Two, Three, and Four.**  

The ultrasound tech looked devastated.  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered to the happy couple, “there’s no heartbeat.”

It was agonizing to watch.  I was curled up on the couch in front of my favorite reality T.V. show.  It featured a large Christian family that I, along with millions of other viewers, had grown to love over the years.  I’d cheered for each new life they’d brought into the world.  And to now witness their loss was nothing short of gut-wrenching.

I held my breath as the couples’ expressions morphed from joy to bewilderment, and finally broke into pain.  As she lay flat on the ultrasound table, the mother wiped her tears and whispered, “The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away, blessed be the name of the Lord.”

The couple joined hands and took their pain to God.  They thanked him for the short time they’d been given with their developing baby.  The father said, “… I pray we’ll handle this the right way, and be able to encourage the children to handle this the right way…”  The mother repeated with greater resolution, “The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away, blessed be the name of the Lord.”

Despite my tears, I stayed glued to the screen.  I followed them out of the doctor’s office and into their living room.  Over an intercom they summoned their large brood together.  The youngest kids were bouncing around while waiting for the announcement.  The room was filled with excited cries, “Is it a boy or a girl?” and “Is it twins?”

When everyone was gathered and silent, the mother explained, “The baby died.”  And again, I witnessed joyful faces fade to shock, and then break into pain.  After a brief conversation the father concluded, “The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away… blessed be the name of the Lord.”

The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away, blessed be the name of the Lord.  I heard those words first as a young child, nestled between my parents at church.  I was trying to make sense of what was happening.  I think they were too.  It soon became clear that the couple at the microphone had tragically miscarried.

The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away, blessed be the name of the Lord.  I’ve read those words several times on social media.  Friends have posted them, sometimes weeks after we’ve rejoiced over their pregnancies.  Those words signaled that it was time to join them in their mourning.

The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away, blessed be the name of the Lord.  Is accepting this sentiment what it means to handle grief “the right way”?  Are we supposed to offer stoic resignation, even praise, towards a God who orchestrates the death of babies?  Is this what the Bible requires?  Is this what God desires?

Where did this phrase come from?  Why is it held up as the pinnacle of Christian grieving?

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Can Christians Support Brittany Maynard’s Decision?

Photo Credit Brittany Maynard

By now you’ve probably read about Brittany Maynard, a 29-year-old woman with terminal brain cancer.  Or you may have seen her gripping, 6-minute video.

Brittany and her husband recently moved to Oregon, a state where aid in dying is legal.  With little time remaining, Brittany has used her final months to seek adventure and connect with loved ones.  She has a contagious smile, a supportive family, and a prescription to end her life on her own terms.  She may do this on November 1st.

You may also have seen the open-letter to Brittany by Kara Tippetts, a 38-year-old mother of 4, who has terminal breast cancer. Yesterday, Christian author Ann Voskamp featured Tippetts’ letter titled, Dear Brittany: Why We Don’t Have To Be So Afraid of Dying & Suffering that We Choose Suicide, on her blog, A Holy Experience.  Since then, Kara’s letter begging Brittany “not to take that pill” has been shared nearly 800,000 times.

Unlike the women listed above, I do not have a terminal illness.  But I have decided to join this discussion for several reasons.  The first is that, as Kara’s letter states, “we are all dying.”  So I think it’s safe to say that we all have a voice in these sensitive end-of-life issues.  The second reason concerns the fact that my 4-year-old son died from a malignant brain tumor in 2012.  As his primary care-giver, I had the intimate experience of watching him die.  I want to share the perspective of one who has had to pick up the pieces after a life-shattering event like this.  And finally, as a Christ-follower, I’d like to offer an alternative to Kara’s message.  While Kara identifies as a Christian, her letter does not speak for all Christians.  And though I appreciate her sincerity and openness, I believe her letter posits at least three common, harmful misconceptions.

Misconception #1 – Death is Beautiful

Kara writes to Brittany, “You have been told a lie. A horrible lie, that your dying will not be beautiful. That the suffering will be too great.”  Then she pleads with Brittany not to take the pill that will end her life, saying, “Yes, your dying will be hard, but it will not be without beauty.  Will you please trust me with that truth?”

Nearly two years ago I watched my son die from a malignant brain tumor.  Trust me, Brittany has been told the truth.  My son’s death was not beautiful.  His suffering was great. Unfortunately for many, the dying process is quite ugly. And though most of us want to delay death at all costs, in some cases suffering exceeds even the ugliness of death.

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A Little More Free

I did this prayer-journaling thing the other day.  Miri was still asleep.  Ian was at work.  My heart was quiet, my laptop was humming softly, and the morning air was filled with the scent of creamy, steamy coffee.  I was settled on our couch, in our new apartment in Saint Paul, MN.

In the sleepy dawn of that morning, I poured out my thoughts to God and did my best to listen.  One phrase still stands out.  Here’s part of what I believe the Lord said:  I want to see your smile, filled with freedom, unguarded.  You’re my daughter.  I made you to be free. 

The pain has been so fresh for so long.  In Georgia, reminders lined every street, every park, every… everything.

But things are new here.  And I’m being brave here.  I even went to a playgroup.  Like, kids running around, squealing and crying and moms singing nursery rhymes and passing out goldfish kind of playgroup.  It was hard at first, I’m not going to lie.  Miriam is still my world, but I’ve kind of checked out of the traditional “Mommy” activities since Henry passed.  So it was a little jarring… but it was also kind-of amazing.  Several in this group had heard my testimony.  They knew my Henry.  Their arms were open.  Their smiles were so free, so unguarded, like mine used to be.

I haven’t blogged much since September.  But that’s not because I’ve run out of words.  I’ve been crafting and drafting, editing and analyzing all kinds of words in the last nine months.  They’ve been poured into a manuscript that’s now 75% complete.

Why write a book?  Because when my son died, blueprint words were waiting.

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Interview with Ellie’s Way

I had the opportunity and challenge of being interviewed by Ellie’s Way this week. Ellie’s Way is an organization named in honor of Todd and Kristen Nigro’s precious daughter, Ellie, who died in a tragic accident in January 2012.

This opportunity was a challenge because the hardest thing for me to write about is… Henry.  It’s easier to write about theology.  It’s easier to write about my pain.  But writing about Henry, and trying to capture his essence with mere words… that’s the hardest for me.  Maybe that’s why I dreaded writing this post. Maybe that’s why I’m so glad I did.

Below is a snippet and you can read the entire post here:

I’d like people to remember two things about Henry – the first is his laugh. I lived for that laugh. When Henry laughed, every cell in his body participated. He’d throw his head back, burst into a massive smile, and cackle from his gut. Waves of joy would emanate from his delighted little self and flood the atmosphere. His laugh was positively magnetic. It captured the attention of everyone around him, family and strangers alike. Hundreds of people laughed with Henry over the years, including strangers in line at the Post Office and passing shoppers at the grocery store. His laugh spread joy everywhere we went. No one could be sad around little Henry’s mighty laugh.

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A Blessing from Ukraine

The Salzmann Family

“Hi Jessica.  So, now you are online in Russian! With a funny male voice though! :)”

That news recently came from Erich Salzmann, my new Swiss friend who lives in Ukraine.  I heard from Erich for the first time last October.  He is the leader of a house-church that was birthed from a gathering of six families.  They were urging Erich to share more than just snippets of the Woodland Hills podcasts that were deeply impacting his life.  So he gave into the friendly pressure and began translating full sermons from English into Russian.  This is remarkable because Erich is a native German speaker, so he translates the sermons from one foreign language into another.

When Erich first emailed me, he explained that his house church wanted to study the topic of suffering.  He had already translated Greg Boyd’s sermon titled “Held” from 2008.  He wanted to add Greg’s sermon “A Letter to Henry” and my sermon “Triumph by Testimony.”  He was writing to ask if I was okay with this.

Um… I think I responded professionally, but inside I was doing cartwheels!   How big is our God???  To know that our story of Henry’s loss, and the picture of God that radically impacted our suffering was going to reach beyond English-speaking boundaries brought unspeakable joy!

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Full Disclosure

***WARNING: GRAPHIC/DISTURBING CONTENT***

How have you been, Jess?

I hear this from time to time.  It’s been 14 months since my 4-year-old son, Henry, died from a brain tumor.

14 months.

Over a year.

I remember right after Henry’s death someone told me about another grieving mother.  That mother was having a very difficult time.  Her child had died roughly a year prior.

I remember thinking, Why is she still having a rough time?  Surely I’ll be doing waaaaaaaay better in a year.

After all, death is an event, right?  In Henry’s case, it was a horrible, unexpected, unplanned event… but it was an event.  An occurrence.  An experience.  Something we all survived.  We knew we’d see him again, eventually.  And in the meantime, surely time would ease the pain.

That was 14 months ago.

How have you been, Jess?

This video helps me explain…

Sometimes when I look at this baboon, I see myself.  Edgy and bewildered, protectively swatting away flies, padding through dry grass with a limp carcass in my teeth.

How have you been, Jess?

How do I answer?  How can I answer?

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Where His Stocking Should Be

Trey Ratcliff via Compfight

***Edit: 2/17/14 – This post was originally published as a guest post for my friend, Tyler Tully as part of his 2013 Advent Series at The Jesus Event.  For archiving purposes, the entire post is now also located below.***

It was Christmas, but not in our house. There were no stockings on the mantle. The artificial tree was lying in cold, dark fragments, disassembled and abandoned. We had tried to put it away, but lacked the strength to finish.

 Our house was still. Our daughter was asleep. Our son was gone.  He’d died the week before.

During that Advent season, multitudes had prayed for our four-year-old.  They prayed for a miracle.  They prayed he’d have one last Christmas.  Instead we mourned him. Sunk deep into our couch, surrounded by Manheim Steamroller and candlelight, sipping merlot and shedding a thousand weary tears, we mourned him.

Yet despite our anguish, the holidays blazed around us.  Those who had prayed for our son gathered with their families.

They celebrated the coming of Immanuel, God with us.

 And I wondered… how many of those, who celebrated the God-child, believed that our child died according to God’s perfect plan?

Did they think the humble one, who once lay in a manger, inflicted our son with brain cancer?

Those who had lifted us in prayer, did they believe this silent night… was a holy night? Was this despondent Christmas the one he’d planned for us?

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