The Life and Times of Joe Suttle

In what has to be one of the shortest chapters in the Bible, Bildad lets loose with his final argument. Was not really much of an argument, but he did score a couple of points.

He made it clear that he recognizes the mighty power of God. The words he uses are "Dominion and awe." Two things strike home very quickly – He is incharge of everything, everywhere, and there is no one like Him.

You know the feeling when you are in the presence of someone great.

Say you are a golfer, [more]and Tiger Woods ask if he can play with you. Or you are shooting some hoops and Michael asks if he can jump in. Or you are whacking some balls across the net and Venus asks if she can play. In either case, you would wonder why someone like that would want to play this game with you?

Out of Bildad's mouth came the words "awe belongs to Him." In other words, you have to "give it to Him." There never has, nor will be anyone like Him. We have to look at all He has done, and simply say how great He is.

However, Bildad wasn't done – he had to throw in some definitions, like the size of His army and the fact that He is everywhere.

The words with which he ends though are often misinterpreted. When he calls man a maggot and a worm many think that is actually what he means. But when you look at the beginnings of his statement here in chapter 25, the reference to man is his insignificance size-wise to that awesome God. Surely he could have picked better words, like "louse" or "mosquito", but he chose maggot and worm.

His word choice then was to draw out that image based on how people might view those creatures in relation to themself. Then, even as now it makes us think about the comparison between a righteous, mighty God and ourselves. He has the power to crush us – snuff out our lives, but He loves us and longs to have us with Him. God created us in His image – certainly He is no "worm", so therefore neither are we. (Logic 101!)

We need not fear Him, but simply come to Him in faith. Let's face it, if Bildad was the closing argument in court for the Prosecution or Defense, he didn't score any points. If anything, he left the case wide open with Job ready to step in.

The other day, I kind of skipped over everything Job had to say in response to Eliphaz in chapter 23. There are actually some very interesting things to ponder.

Job says "complaining is rebellion." Hello! Think about it – you have a boss, who gives orders to get "something" done. Better yet, you give your child or employee their list of chores (their orders) for the day. How would you view their complaining about what you have given them to do. You know "I can't do that", or "why doesn't my sister/brother/someone else have to do this much?" After all the time you spent trying to figure out who whould be best for the job and what you know they can do…[more]

The real stopper came as I re-read that it was like Job laid out a map or floor plan, and said "it doesn't make any difference which way I go, I can't find Him!" (verses 8 and 9) Here was a man who knew the way of and to God. Yet he feels sort of lost, because he cannot see the one who's instructions he is trying to follow. It's like "I know He's here, I just can't see Him."

But I love Job's analogy of his being gold, tried in the fire. The immediate image is of a pot of gold being melted, along with all the impurities. When it is hot enough, the first thing a goldsmith (metalsmith?) does is pour off the dross, leaving the pure gold. The less dross, the purer the gold. To see the beauty of the gold, you have to get rid of the dull – that which does not belong there.

Oh that we might let our lives be purified. Sure the gold when it goes in the pot has all the junk mixed up with it, but to become better, it needs to be "fired".

The last thing I found in this chapter was Job's insistence that he has followed the right path – his feet held fast. Imagine that you are walking along the edge of a mountainous path – narrow and along the crevices. Your feet have to hold on to keep you from falling to injury or death.

When I was a boy in San Francisco, my friends and I used to go walking on Red Rock Hill. We learned early that we could either slip and fall from the top to the bottom, or we could walk down if we placed our feet correctly. Feet in the wrong place not only scrapped our legs, but out fingers were screpped raw and we tried to stop our slide.

Red Rock Hill is no longer there – it's been replaced by Diamond Heights, but the lessons it taught remain. Walk carefully and you can go up or down safely. Make a mistake, and you can start over again. Make a mistake, and your body will let you know. You could not blame the hill because it was your footsteps that took you down.

That sounds a whole lot like life. The path does not put itself under my feet – I move my feet in the direction I choose. Better tred carefully then.