Deo Gloria
Sermon for February 7, 2021
Pastor Martin Bentz
Text: Job 7:1-7
Theme: Remember Me, O God!
I have a concern this morning, friends. I’m concerned that I may miss some of you with my sermon. The fact is you may be too young. You haven’t had the experience yet, the life experience necessary to really appreciate what I’m going to share with you this morning. But I hope you’ll listen anyway, because someday you will. I can guarantee that. Someday you will have enough experience to appreciate this message, to appreciate what Job is saying in these verses, and it just might make the difference between hope and despair.
Others of you I know I am going to hit this morning. I know I’m going to hit you right between the eyes, right square in the heart because you’ve been there. You’ve been where Job was. You know the loss, the heartache, the pain he was experiencing. And you know the struggle he was going through.
If you remember the story of Job, you remember that he was a man who experienced tremendous loss. He had been abundantly blessed by God with large flocks of sheep and large herds of cattle and camels and donkeys. In addition he had numerous servants, and a large family as well—7 sons and 3 daughters. In chapter one he is referred to as “the greatest man among all the people of the East”(v. 3). And in one day he lost it all. You heard me right. In one day he lost it all—all of his flocks and herds, all of his sheep and his cattle and his donkeys, many of his servants, and all ten of his children too—all killed or taken away in the same day. To be honest I can hardly imagine. I had my car stolen once and that was pretty devastating to me at the time. But that doesn’t even come close to this. And I know our family has lost a few pets over the years and that was certainly sad. But that doesn’t hold a candle to this. And I know a guy who lost his wife and three children and a baby they were expecting in a terrible car accident and I know how devastated he was. And that maybe comes close in one respect—the loss of family. But to lose everything? Your business…gone. Your investments…gone. Your children…gone, every last one…gone. I can hardly imagine how devastated Job must have been. I can hardly imagine the heartache and grief and pain that must have filled his heart.
But he didn’t turn his back on God or blame God. I know people who have done that too, who have become extremely angry at God because of their heartache and loss and have turned their backs on him; but not Job. Toward the end of chapter 1 we read that Job fell to the ground in worship and said, “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I will depart. The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away; may the name of the LORD be praised”(v. 21).
But there was more. You see, Job lost his health too. As if all of this heartache and loss and pain weren’t enough, Job lost his health too. He was afflicted with painful sores from the top of his head to the soles on his feet. He refers to that in the verses of our text. In verse 5 he describes how his body is clothed with worms and scabs, how his skin is broken and festering.
And if that wasn’t bad enough—all of the loss, all of the heartache, all of the illness and suffering and pain—if that wasn’t bad enough, his wife turned her back on him too. After witnessing all that had happened to him, she offered these wonderful words of comfort and encouragement: “Why don’t you just curse God and die?”(2:9) To which Job responded, “Shall we accept good from God and not trouble?”(2:10)
But that was several months ago now and the cold, hard reality of his loss along with the ongoing suffering and pain had begun to take their toll. Those of you who have lost a loved one very suddenly know what I mean. At the time of the accident, at the time of the funeral, it’s like you’re almost in shock. And at the time you stand pretty strong in your faith. But as the days and weeks and months go along, the reality of your loss really begins to sink in and the hurt just seems to get worse and you really begin to struggle. You would give anything to see them again—to hear their voice, to see their smile, to come home from work and walk in the door and see them come running across the kitchen and say, “Mommy,” “Daddy,” “Honey”—you’d give anything for that, but you know can’t. You know you won’t. You aren’t going to see them again—not in this life.
And then there was the ongoing suffering and pain as well, the pain that never let up day or night, the pain that kept him up at night, pacing the floor, wondering how long until daylight. The loss, the heartache, the suffering, the pain, the lack of sleep—they all were taking their toll on Job, causing him to doubt, causing him to question, causing him to struggle in his faith.
And then to add insult to injury, 3 of Job’s friends showed up: Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar. Supposedly they came to comfort and encourage Job in his loss. They started out pretty well. For seven days they sat next to Job on the ground and said nothing. Can you imagine that? When they came and saw Job’s terrible loss firsthand and saw his terrible suffering firsthand, they said nothing, for a whole week. What could they say? What do you say to a man who has lost everything? “Cheer up. Things will get better?” They just sat there on the ground next to him just to be with him. If only they had kept their months shut! You see his friends had come to the conclusion that Job must have committed some terrible sin for such awful things to happen to him. God must be punishing him for something he did.
And sometimes that is true, isn’t it? Sometimes God does allow trouble and hardship to come into our lives when we are guilty of sin to humble us and lead us to repentance. But sometimes that isn’t the case at all. It isn’t always true that trouble or hardship are the result of sin in my life. I may have done nothing wrong. In fact the trouble or hardship may actually be the result of someone else’s sin—like the drunk driver who swerved out his lane and slammed into your daughter’s vehicle, or the guy who used a computer virus to get your bank account information and then drained your bank account. That’s not your sin. It’s theirs; but the problem is yours. And sometimes the trouble and heartache and illness and pain is not anybody’s fault. It’s just the result of living in a sinful and decaying world with a sinful and decaying body. Job was innocent. He hadn’t done anything wrong to bring this kind of heartache and pain and suffering into his life. But here were his friends, accusing him, telling him he must have done something wrong and he needed to repent.
It was just one more blow, like a sock in the stomach, to a guy who was already down, a guy who was hurting inside and out, a guy who was walking through a dark and difficult valley in his life and was nearly at the point of despair. Listen again as Job pours out the agony in his heart:
Does not man have hard service on earth? Are not his days like those of a hired man? Like a slave longing for the evening shadows, or a hired man waiting eagerly for his wages, so I have been allotted months of futility, and nights of misery have been assigned to me. When I lie down, I think, “How long before I get up?” The night drags on, and I toss till dawn. My body is clothed with worms and scabs, my skin is broken and festering. My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, and they come to an end without hope.(vv. 1-6)
You can just hear the anguish in his words, can’t you, the pain, the heartache, the frustration, the futility, dare I say it, the hopelessness? It seemed that way to Job at times, at this particular time in his life. It seemed to him as if there was little, if any, hope.
Have you been where Job is at? Have you been in that valley of darkness, that valley of grief, that valley of heartache and pain and you wonder if it will ever get better, if that pain in your heart will ever go away? Have you been in that valley of suffering and pain, the pain that never goes away, day or night? You pray to get better, that the pain will go away, but you don’t and it doesn’t. It just drags on and on and on. Have you found yourself, like Job, unable to sleep because of the pain in your body, or the pain in your heart? You just toss and turn and toss and turn. You pace the floor, wondering how long before the night is over. Have you found yourself in that valley of discouragement, in that pit of despair, where you can’t remember the last time you felt good about anything, where it seems like your life is just slipping away and your hope is almost gone? I know some of you have been there. I can think of a few right off the top of my head. I’ve known others in the course of my ministry too. It’s an awful place to be, but sometimes that is reality, our reality in this vale of tears.
So where do we find hope at times like that? Where do we find comfort and strength to make it through another day, another night, another week, another month? The same place Job did. Take another look at the first part of verse 7: “Remember, O God, that my life is but a breath.” It’s a prayer, isn’t it? A very brief prayer to be sure, but a prayer all the same. “Remember, O God, that my life is but a breath.” In spite of all the trials he has been through, in spite of the tremendous heartache and loss, in spite of the ongoing suffering and pain, Job still clung to God in faith. He still had trust in God and his mercy. It may have been weak and wavering at times, but he still had it. He still had trust that God would not forget, that God would remember him and the brevity of his life, that God would have mercy on him.
That’s where we can find comfort and hope in our times of trouble and distress as well: in our gracious and loving God, in the fact that he has not forgotten us, that he remembers us, that he will have mercy on us and help us.
Satan would like us to believe the opposite. When we go through times of trouble and heartache, when we experience suffering and pain and loss, Satan would like us to believe that God doesn’t care, that he is too busy to deal with our puny, little problems, that we have fallen off his radar screen, that he doesn’t remember us at all. Recognize that for what it is, friends. It’s a lie, a lie straight from hell. And recognize too that it would never be true, not of God, not of Job’s God, not of our God.
Look at the manger in Bethlehem’s stable. Could the God who sent his Son to be your Savior ignore the ones he was sent to save? Look at the cross. Could the God who gave up his own life for you, who experienced the horrendous suffering of the cross and the agony of hell, ignore you in your time of suffering and pain? Look at the empty tomb. Could the God who conquered sin and death leave you to suffer with the effects of sin alone? Look at the Baptismal font. Could the God who adopted you into his family as his very own son or daughter forget about you in your time of heartache and loss?
And if you still have any doubt about whether or not God would remember you in your time of suffering and loss, then listen to his own words of assurance recorded on the pages of the Bible. The first is found in the book of Psalms: “As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him; for he remembers how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust”(103:13+14). And the second comes from the book of Isaiah: “Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands”(49:15+16).
God’s promise to you is that he will not forget—ever, that he will be with you and help you in every trial, in every loss, in every heartache, in every time of suffering and pain. He will give you comfort and peace and strength even as he did Job. And one day he will deliver you from all suffering and pain and heartache and loss and take you to live with him in perfect peace and rest forever.
With Job we can pray—when our world is falling apart, when we’re walking through that dark and difficult valley of suffering and heartache and pain—with Job we can confidently pray, “Remember me, O God. Remember me!” Amen.