Summary: No woman in history has been so severely condemned for so few words. She only steps on the stage for a moment, and she utters about ten words. On the basis of those few words she has been psychoanalyzed by preachers and scholars, and they have concluded, she was to Job what Judas was to Jesus.

Because of his great novel, War and Peace, Leo Tolstoy became

one of the most famous Russians that ever lived. His fame and

fortune did not bring him happiness, however, because of his wife.

They were about as compatible as a porcupine and a bubble. She

loved luxury, and he hated it. She loved the plaudits of society, and

he sought to escape them. She just loved the use of wealth for

power, and he felt it was a cursed sin. She was so filled with

jealousy that she drove all his friends away from the home. She

even drove out her own daughter, and then rushed into Tolstoy's

room and shot the girls picture with an air-rifle.

For years she nagged, scolded, and screamed to get her own way,

and when he resisted she would fall to the floor in a fit with a bottle

of opium to her lips, swearing she would kill herself. Finally, at age

82, Tolstoy fled from his home into the cold not knowing where to

go. Eleven days later he died of pneumonia in a railway station

house.

I share this history, of a less than ideal wife, because most of the

commentators of history feel that Job's wife was in this same

category, or even worse. Way back in the early centuries of

Christianity, preachers were saying, Job's biggest tragedy was that

his wife was not visiting the kids when the tornado hit. Job lost

everything but his wife, and leaving her was Satan's most cruel

blow. Modern preachers say this same type of thing as a joke, but

many of the great theologians have meant it in all seriousness.

Augustine called her the devil's accomplice. Calvin called her a

Diabolical Fury.

No woman in history has been so severely condemned for so few

words. She only steps on the stage for a moment, and she utters

about ten words. On the basis of those few words she has been

psychoanalyzed by preachers and scholars, and they have

concluded, she was to Job what Judas was to Jesus. She was just a

terrible wife. Kuyper, the modern preacher and theologian,

expresses the pessimism of the centuries about her. He writes, "In

her the last spark of a woman's love, the last remainder of feminine

devotion, has been completely extinguished." God made man just a

little lower than the angels, but here was a woman who seems to be

just a little higher than the beast.

You women will be glad to hear that there is another, far more

merciful, view of this poor woman. William Blake, the English poet-painter,

produced a book of paintings depicting the major scenes of

the book of Job, back in 1825. He did not follow the lines of

tradition, and write her off as one of Job's problems. He portrayed

her at Job's side sharing in his suffering, in every scene. He

vindicated her against the scorn of the centuries. This made many

Bible expositors look more closely at the record of Scripture, rather

than tradition, and their closer look changed tradition.

For centuries nobody ever stopped to consider that the ten

children Job lost were also her children, and that as a mother, she

would have a more severe struggle with grief, even than Job had.

Plus, there is the fact that she now, on top of it all, has a husband

who is helpless, and apparently fighting a hopeless battle against a

dreaded disease. It is often more difficult to watch a loved one

suffer than to suffer yourself. For centuries men looked upon Job's

wife as an uninvolved bystander, who could have been a great

encouragement to poor Job in his time of need, but she blew it.

Nobody ever bothered to ask what she was going though.

Everybody talks about the great suffering of Job, but few ever talk

about the greater suffering of his wife.

Modern scholars, more sensitive to the grief she was trying to

cope with, see the whole account in a different light. They no longer

see her as a tool of Satan trying to get Job to turn on God. They see

her as a woman in despair who cannot take anymore of the

heartache of seeing her husband die a slow agonizing death. She,

therefore, urges him to end it quickly by cursing God. It was a

common belief that sudden death would result from cursing God.

She was saying that he should commit suicide. Her motive was

mercy, for she was advocating mercy killing.

Job clearly rebukes her for her desperate advice, and tells her it

is folly to be angry at God. You have to take the bad with the good,

and that is just life. "You buy the land, you get the stone. You buy

the meat, you get the bone." Job has a spirit that handles crisis in a

calm philosophical manner, and he stifles his wife's more emotional

reaction to grief. What we have here, in this couple, is a very

common experience. Two people coping with tragedy with two

different perspectives, both of which represent millions of

personalities.

When we get the record straight, we discover that Mrs. Job's

reaction is just as common, and just as normal as that of Job. All

this business about her being the devils accomplice is nothing but

slander against a Godly woman. God no where condemns her. He

had a good chance at the end when he condemns Job's friends, but

God obviously did not see her as a vicious foe. Instead, she becomes

the wife and mother of the ideal family again, and they live happily

ever after in God's blessing. I prefer to see Job's wife in the light of

God's treatment of her, and Job's love for her, rather than in the

light of histories condemnation of her.

If we learn nothing else from the study of Job's wife, let us learn

this: Do not ask only, what do great men say, or what does tradition

say, but ask, what does the Bible say. Check your convictions

against the Word of God. If they don't fit the facts of Scripture, you

should be glad to change your convictions. Once you know what

Scripture says, then it is of value to search history and tradition for

support. The contemporary poet, Thomas John Carlisle, in his book

Journey With Job, has this excellent sympathetic description.

Job's wife is often caricatured

as a second Satan since she said

"Curse God and die" though few would like

to have their own biography encapsuled

in one phrase in or out of context.

At least she didn't prostitute theology

and make believe to dust her husband's ash pit.

Perhaps she had to take a job

to shield herself from the poor house and provide

for doctors bills-if one would come-

and to take her mind off what the patient looked like

and all that had happened to her as well as him.

Job did not cry which doesn't mean she didn't.

It's hard to have a hero for a husband.

Lest you think the modern poet is too sympathetic with her, let me

share with you the fact that the merciful and optimistic view of her

goes back before any preacher ever condemned her. The Septuagint

is the Hebrew Bible which was translated into Greek 200 years

before Christ. This was the Bible of New Testament Christians. In

that Bible this paragraph was added to the story of Job to give more

details. The 70 scholars who translated that Bible apparently felt

that no woman could say only ten words and be done with it. So

they added this expansion which, though it was not Scripture, does

give us a commentary on how they saw Job's wife. They saw her as

an exhausted grief stricken woman who had come to the end of her

rope. That addition reads like this: After a long time had pasted his

wife said to him, "How long will you exercise patience, saying See,

I will persevere a little longer, waiting and hoping for my redemption?

For consider, the memory of you has vanished from the earth, your sons

and your daughters are no more.

Those who were the pains and the travail of my womb, and for whom

I exhausted myself in vain. As for you, there you sit, your body

rotting amid worms, and spending the nights in the open air. While

I, wondering about a slave, roaming restlessly hither and thither,

from house to house, await the hour of a sunset that I may rest from

my weariness and from the sorrows which now press upon me.

Now say some word against the Lord, and die.

Job's wife carried even a greater burden than he, and so her grief

reaction is more understandable. The apocryphal Job says she

made the supreme sacrifice and sold her hair to buy bread. The

Koran does accuse her of being tempted by Satan to have all her

former luxury restored if she worshipped him. She told Job, and he

swore to give her one hundred lashes if he recovered. The Koran,

however, ends the story with mercy for her. Job was aloud to keep

his oath by striking her with one blow of a palm branch with one

hundred leaves. G. Campbell Morgan, that prince of expositors,

sums up the positive perspective on this suffering woman. "Don't let

us criticize her until we have been where she was." He says, she just

felt she would rather see him dead than to suffer so.

All of this was to set the stage for a study of grief. There are two

basic responses to tragic suffering: Resignation and rebellion. Job

took the route of resignation, which is clearly the best way to go, but

his wife took the way of rebellion, which is so much harder. So many

people have to take this more difficult route, because they are just

not made like Job. They need to be angry in their grief, and get

their negative emotions expressed before they can adjust, and accept

their suffering. If they try to suppress their rebellion and anger, and

pretend they are resigned to their fate, as the will of God, they risk a

lifetime of bitter resentment. Honest rebellion is far more healthy

than hypocritical resignation.

Job's wife was no hypocrite. She was angry at life, and angry at

God, and angry at her husband for his excruciating patience.

Maybe he did not mind dying by inches, but she could not tolerate it,

and she cried out, "For heaven's sake get it over with. If God won't

make you well, then get on with the inevitable-cruse God and die."

The Speaker's Bible says, "The sorrow of Job's wife has never been

dealt with-perhaps never will be; certainly never by a man." I know

what the author means. A man can never know what a mother of

ten children feels like when she is suddenly, and tragically, left

childless. But certainly men are not so hard and insensitive that

they cannot come to some intelligent grasp of her grief.

Edgar N. Jackson, the outstanding authority on grief, in his

books Understanding Grief and The Many Faces of Grief, says the

goal of the counselor and comforter is not to say, "I know how you

feel." That is superficial, and can never be fully accurate. What is

important is not to feel what they feel, but to let them feel what they

feel. You must give others the full right to feel their real feelings,

and share them, rather than try to make them feel in ways that

conform to what is acceptable to others. In other words, do not try

to make them feel like you feel they ought to feel.

Poor Mrs. Job would have ended up in an asylum had she gone

to most of the preachers of history for counseling. Most of them

could not have tolerated her feelings of rebellion. The fact is,

however, that her feelings were normal, and common even among

Christians, when they faced tragedy. To accuse her of being Satan's

assistant is as cruel a thing to do as something dreamed up by

Satan's assistant. The record shows that Job also became very

angry and rebellious as his suffering continued. Even this near perfect

man, with nearly infinite patience, could not escape the

rebellious emotions. He charges God with hunting him like a lion,

and comes very close to doing what his wife asked him to do. In

chapter 9:22-23 he says, "He destroys both the blameless and the

wicked. When disaster brings sudden death, he mocks at the

calamity of the innocent." If cursing God would have led to sudden

death, Job came exceedingly close here, and elsewhere. The point I

am seeking to establish is, it is not just the emotional female, but also

the rational male that goes through the rebellious stage of grief.

It is very important to know this so that, if and when it happens

to you, you can be aware that it is normal, and that God will not

condemn you for your rebellious anger. Why not? Because the fact

is, tragic death is not His will, but is suffering that comes from the

enemy. It is evil, and we have every right to be angry about it. Jesus

in His humility was angry as He saw the sorrow that the death of

Lazarus to Mary and Martha. He was angry at the injustice of the

money changers in the temple. What is not right should make us

angry, and tragedy is not right. The death of any loved one is a

robbery by our enemy, and anger is perfectly normal. Our problem

is, we tend to get angry at God, for we feel He could have, and

should have, prevented that robbery. Grief leads people to become

angry at pastors for not being more effective with God in prayer for

healing their loved ones. They get angry at doctors, funeral

directors, and anyone else who seems to benefit by the work of the

enemy.

Resignation is so much easier on everybody, but the facts of life

indicate that rebellion is more common, and we need to be prepared

to expect it in our own hearts, or we will give Satan an advantage

over us in grief. Sometimes the finest Christians are shocked at how

they handle grief. C. S. Lewis has become one of the best known

Christians of the 20th century. His books are read around the

world. He has become a pillar of the faith. Before Lewis died, he had to

watch his loving wife die. He loved her dearly, and was very

angry that disease and death should rob him of his treasure. This

great man of God would not hurl rocks at Mrs. Job, but would have

held her hand and said, "I understand."

He tells the whole story of his own rebellion in his book, A Grief

Observed. He writes, "It is hard to have patience who people who

say there is no death or death does not matter. There is death, and

whatever is matters. And whatever happens has consequences, and

they are irrevocable and irreversible." His own grief made him

realize how easy it is to be like one of Job's friends. It is so easy to

bear other people's sorrows, and give advise, but it is all so

superficial, and we really do not grasp what grief is all about until

we have to endure it ourselves. He wrote, "If my house has

collapsed at one blow, that is because it was a house of cards. The

faith which took these things into account was not faith, but

imagination. The taking them into account was not real sympathy.

If I had really cared, as I thought I did, about the sorrows of the

world, I should not have been so overwhelmed when my own sorrow

came."

C.S. Lewis is confirming G. Campbell Morgan's conviction that

we ought not to condemn Job's wife for her rebellion until we have

been where she was. Let me assure you, most Christians with a deep

faith, and a clear hope of heaven, would still go through rebellion on

their way to resignation. One of the best examples of this I have

ever read is Iona Henry's book, Triumph Over Tragedy. Mom and

dad sat in the hospital praying for their 14 year old daughter Jane.

She had a brain tumor and was having surgery. The father was

already in the rebellious stage, and was fighting a private war with

God. "Jane, I told God, was only 14-too young to die with a tumor

on the brain. I begged God for mercy and I argued: I even

threatened Him-anything to save Jane." Jane died, and they had to go

home and tell their ten year old son.

He ran into the library and began to kick the furniture. They

decided to go on a trip after the funeral. They went to his father's

place, who was a preacher. On the way they were hit by a train, and

the father and son were killed instantly. The mother was as good as

dead with many severe injuries. She spent a third of year in the

hospital in a strange town. Her book is the story of her journey

through rebellion to restful resignation in Christ.

She struggled so deeply with the issue of suffering, and I will

sharing her insights as we study Job. For now, we want to learn

from her rebellion. After her long recovery and return to a life

empty of all the people she loved, she writes, "I wandered the

streets, forlorn, lost, ready to scream my bitterness. I looked at

women with husbands and laughing children, and I hated them."

Many a times she thought of suicide. She had to cling to a post in

the subway to keep from throwing herself on the tracks. Joni,

another great Christian sufferer, also said she would have gladly

committed suicide in her rebellious stage had she been able to figure

out a way to do it. Her paralysis is the only thing that saved her.

What helped Iona come through her rebellion to a state of

peaceful resignation in Christ was not easy answers, or

condemnation of her rebellion, but acceptance of her rebellion.

Those who helped her most were those who recognized that it is a

very dark world in which Christ is the light, and a Christian does

not need to pretend it is otherwise. We only add to people's grief

when we fail to see their need to feel angry at life's evils. God has a

much better psychology. He allows people to even get angry at Him,

in order to rid him of their hostility. The Psalms are full of this kind

of release for grief emotions. The more you understand grief, the

more you will sympathize with Job's wife, and not condemn her.

Christians have failed so often to be comforters in life's trials. Let us

learn from the study of grief that Job's wife had a normal response

to her suffering, and that we need to accept this kind of response in

other Christians who suffer tragedy.