Job 30:17-31: a reflection

17In the night season my bones are pierced in me, and the pains that gnaw me take no rest. 18My garment is disfigured by great force. It binds me about as the collar of my tunic. 19He has cast me into the mire. I have become like dust and ashes. 20I cry to you, and you do not answer me. I stand up, and you gaze at me. 21You have turned to be cruel to me. With the might of your hand you persecute me. 22You lift me up to the wind, and drive me with it. You dissolve me in the storm. 23For I know that you will bring me to death, to the house appointed for all living. 24“However doesn’t one stretch out a hand in his fall? Or in his calamity therefore cry for help? 25Didn’t I weep for him who was in trouble? Wasn’t my soul grieved for the needy? 26When I looked for good, then evil came. When I waited for light, darkness came. 27My heart is troubled, and doesn’t rest. Days of affliction have come on me. 28I go mourning without the sun. I stand up in the assembly, and cry for help. 29I am a brother to jackals, and a companion to ostriches. 30My skin grows black and peels from me. My bones are burned with heat. 31Therefore my harp has turned to mourning, and my pipe into the voice of those who weep.

Job is in the depths of anguish, and he pours it out with raw, unfiltered honesty. His body is racked with pain; he cries to God and feels no answer: I cry to you, and you do not answer me. He even accuses God of having turned cruel toward him. These are hard words, words we might hesitate to speak; and yet Job speaks them, bringing his darkest feelings, his sense that God has become his enemy and gone silent, directly to God himself.

Notice that Job, even in his darkest anguish, keeps speaking to God. His words are raw, even accusing; he feels God has turned cruel, that his cries go unanswered. And yet he does not turn away from God in silence; he brings even these dark and bitter feelings to God, crying out, complaining, pouring out his anguish before the very One he feels has abandoned him. His lament is honest to the point of accusation; but it is still directed to God, still a crying out to him.

That honesty in lament, hard as Job's words are, has something to teach us. When we are in deep anguish, and feel that God is silent or even against us, we may think we must either hide those feelings or turn away from God altogether. But Job shows another way: to bring even our darkest feelings, our sense of God's silence or abandonment, honestly to God himself, crying out to him rather than turning away. God is not too fragile for our honest anguish; he can bear our raw lament. When you are in the depths, and feel God silent or against you, do not turn away from him in bitter silence; bring your anguish to him honestly, even your darkest feelings, as Job did. Keep crying out to God, even from the depths, even when he seems silent; honest lament, brought to God, is itself a holding on, and the God who seemed silent to Job did not, in the end, abandon him.

Lord, Job is in the depths of anguish, pouring it out with raw honesty: his body racked with pain, crying to you and feeling no answer, even accusing you of turning cruel. These are hard words; and yet he speaks them, bringing his darkest feelings directly to you, still crying out to you rather than turning away. Teach me from that honesty in lament. When I am in deep anguish, and feel that you are silent or even against me, I may think I must either hide those feelings or turn away from you altogether. But Job shows me another way: to bring even my darkest feelings, my sense of your silence or abandonment, honestly to you, crying out rather than turning away. You are not too fragile for my honest anguish; you can bear my raw lament. When I am in the depths, and feel you silent or against me, keep me from turning away from you in bitter silence; help me bring my anguish to you honestly, even my darkest feelings, as Job did. Help me keep crying out to you, even from the depths, even when you seem silent; honest lament, brought to you, is itself a holding on, and you, who seemed silent to Job, did not in the end abandon him. Hear my honest cry, Lord, even from the depths.