The Second Sunday in Advent
The
Collect.
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B
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LESSED
Lord, who hast caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning; Grant
that we may in such wise hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest
them, that by patience and comfort of thy holy Word, we may embrace, and ever
hold fast, the blessed hope of everlasting life, which thou hast given us in
our Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.
The
First Sunday in Advent
The Collect.
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A
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LMIGHTY
God, give us grace that we may cast away the works of darkness, and put upon us
the armour of light, now in the time of this mortal life, in which thy Son
Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility; that in the last day, when he
shall come again in his glorious majesty to judge both the quick and the dead,
we may rise to the life immortal, through him who liveth and reigneth with thee
and the Holy Ghost, now and ever. Amen.
¶
This Collect is to be repeated every day, after the other Collects in Advent,
until Christmas Day.
Job 6
King James
Version (KJV)
1 But
Job answered and said,
2 Oh that my grief were
throughly weighed, and my calamity laid in the balances together!
3 For now it would be
heavier than the sand of the sea: therefore my words are swallowed up.
4 For the arrows of the
Almighty are within me, the poison whereof drinketh up my spirit: the terrors
of God do set themselves in array against me.
5 Doth the wild ass bray
when he hath grass? or loweth the ox over his fodder?
6 Can that which is
unsavoury be eaten without salt? or is there any taste in the white of an egg?
7 The things that my
soul refused to touch are as my sorrowful meat.
8 Oh that I might have
my request; and that God would grant me the thing that I long for!
9 Even that it would
please God to destroy me; that he would let loose his hand, and cut me off!
10 Then
should I yet have comfort; yea, I would harden myself in sorrow: let him not
spare; for I have not concealed the words of the Holy One.
11 What
is my strength, that I should hope? and what is mine end, that I should prolong
my life?
12 Is
my strength the strength of stones? or is my flesh of brass?
13 Is
not my help in me? and is wisdom driven quite from me?
14 To
him that is afflicted pity should be shewed from his friend; but he forsaketh
the fear of the Almighty.
15 My
brethren have dealt deceitfully as a brook, and as the stream of brooks they
pass away;
16 Which
are blackish by reason of the ice, and wherein the snow is hid:
17 What
time they wax warm, they vanish: when it is hot, they are consumed out of their
place.
18 The
paths of their way are turned aside; they go to nothing, and perish.
19 The
troops of Tema looked, the companies of Sheba waited for them.
20 They
were confounded because they had hoped; they came thither, and were ashamed.
21 For
now ye are nothing; ye see my casting down, and are afraid.
22 Did
I say, Bring unto me? or, Give a reward for me of your substance?
23 Or,
Deliver me from the enemy's hand? or, Redeem me from the hand of the mighty?
24 Teach
me, and I will hold my tongue: and cause me to understand wherein I have erred.
25 How
forcible are right words! but what doth your arguing reprove?
26 Do
ye imagine to reprove words, and the speeches of one that is desperate, which
are as wind?
27 Yea,
ye overwhelm the fatherless, and ye dig a pit for your friend.
28 Now
therefore be content, look upon me; for it is evident unto you if I lie.
29 Return,
I pray you, let it not be iniquity; yea, return again, my righteousness is in
it.
30 Is
there iniquity in my tongue? cannot my taste discern perverse things?
It may seem a bit inconsistent to study Job during the Advent Season with
Advent and Christmas carols heralding the promise of the coming of Christ in
our dens and living rooms, but is it really? Doesn't the Book of Job illustrate
the pain and suffering – the darkness and smothering wretchedness – that Christ
came to take away from our hearts? Should we not consider Job to epitomize all
that we should hope to have satisfied in Christ? Even the Advent color of
Purple – symbolizing not only the Kingship of the coming Savior but also His
pain and suffering (and ours) – informs of the prayer and fasting that should
attend the season. Please look at this profound Advent statement of Job: For
I know that my redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon
the earth: And though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh
shall I see God: Whom I shall see for myself. (Job 19:25-27) This
is the Promise of Advent, not only for Job, but for every man, woman and child
who hold fast to that grace through faith in Christ! Job spoke of none other
than Christ as the One who even lived then, would come to stand physically upon
the earth, and, though Job's body would lie moldering in the ground, he would
nonetheless see his, and our, Redeemer with his own eyes. That is a truly great
expression of faith when account of it is given even before the realization in
time.
In the previous chapter, we observed the aloofness toward Job's suffering by
his friend, Eliphaz, in finding Job at fault for his suffering. Job now
responds with a lament that his friends should consider his suffering more than
his supposed shortcomings. We should expect a friend to comfort and not assail,
but too often this is not the case. It is almost human nature to more easily
find fault for our failures when those failures are not our own. For the
arrows of the Almighty are within me, the poison whereof drinketh up my spirit:
the terrors of God do set themselves in array against me (Job 6:4) Job
mistakenly blames God for that pain which Satan has caused. God's wrath, if
leveled against Job, would be far more terrible than any Satan could muster.
But Job is actually under God's protection in his suffering, and Job does not
know it. When one devastating loss after another comes upon us, we will also
have trouble in properly attributing these troubles, and all pain and
suffering, to their proper source – that old serpent of the Garden who is the
author of death and suffering. When our flesh is in pain, our other senses
become subordinated to the point of pain. All that we taste is tasteless as the
white of an egg, and there is no seasoning that will suffice to restore flavor.
Instead of beauty, the sound of the birds of Spring become a noisome bother.
Our eyes can penetrate no further than that pile of ashes that has become our
place of suffering.
Beginning at verse 8, Job again blames God for his inordinate suffering. He
desires death even though it be not God's will that Job see death at present. Job
would be thankful for even the pain were it a precursor of his death. He claims
that there is no hope in living for him. So why prolong a life of only
suffering and more suffering? In verse 14, Job accuses, rightly, his friend of
omitting pity to the favor of blame. In doing so, Eliphaz forsakes a proper
fear of God. When a friend denies pity to his hurt friend, he also denies
truth for they are related. Let not mercy and truth forsake thee: bind
them about thy neck; write them upon the table of thine heart: (Prov
3:3) Truth and mercy are inseparable. There is no commandment of God that is
not given for the sake of mercy to the obedient.
His friends are as the sands of the dunes and deserts for their lack of fixed
position. Unlike men of substance, they are changeable and inconstant.
Seeing the condition of Job, they are fearful of the same fate befalling them.
It is true that our small emotions of sympathy are often brooked by the fear of
suffering the same.
The following passage is noteworthy of its insight into the
heart of man: Did I say, Bring unto me? or, Give a reward for me of
your substance? Or, Deliver me from the enemy's hand? or, Redeem me from
the hand of the mighty? Teach me, and I will hold my tongue: and cause me
to understand wherein I have erred. How forcible are right words! but what doth
your arguing reprove? Do ye imagine to reprove words, and the speeches of one
that is desperate, which are as wind? Yea, ye overwhelm the fatherless,
and ye dig a pit for your friend. (Job 6:22-27) When problems overwhelm
us, we often run to our friends and close confidantes for the purpose of
gaining a sympathetic ear. We may not ask for money or other material help, but
ONLY sympathy. If truth is told us, we may not like to hear it, but it is
helpful. But Job's friends offer no help in truth. They simply judge with an
unequal balance. When a friend has fallen into a deep well and cries for help,
do we run to the edge and demand his reason for digging the well?
Job pleads with his friends to look upon his need as well as his righteousness,
for he is righteous. He asks, essentially: Does the fact that I have fallen
under this pain and suffering suggest that I have forgotten righteousness and
wisdom which I had before? Am I not the same Job you knew before my sorrows. If
our friends become disabled and unable to visit, do we account them as
something less than when we were all happy and active? The human soul does not
diminish at pain and disease. It may even grow more acute. Are we fair weather
friends, or are we even greater friends in the very midst of a friend's storm?
We, alone can answer that question with our hearts, with our feet, and with our
hands.
