Curtis A. Bronzan

Rob Bell’s latest NOOMA offering, Whirlwind, enters into an interesting conversation centered on the ancient story of Job. In it, Bell quotes at length from the earliest of books in the Hebrew Scriptures, which has played a central role in recent works by Slavoj Žižek and David Bazan (previously addressed here).

Bazan concludes his latest album:

When Job asked you a question
You answered “Who are you?”
That sounds a bit defensive
Did you just bite off more than you could chew?

And Žižek wonders if Job stayed quiet

neither because he was crushed by God’s overwhelming presence, nor because he wanted thereby to indicate his continuous resistance – the fact that God avoided answering his question – but because, in a gesture of silent solidarity, he percieved the divine impotence… What Job suddenly understood was that it was not him, but God himself who was in effect on trial in Job’s calamities, and he failed the test miserably. (The Monstrosity of Christ, 55-56)

After noting such quotations, the assertion that Bell enters into this conversation, as aforementioned, could be rightly questioned. It is by no mere chance, however, that all three thinkers are drawn back in to the same old story that has influenced all three monotheistic world faiths.

This is, of course, because this oldest of all biblical narratives addresses one of the most pressing questions of humanity: Why do we suffer? And what can be done about it? And after a century that was to end all suffering (and even “Christianize the world”), our capitalism, democracy and in some cases, even our faiths (other than capitalism and democracy!?), have led to increased suffering and systemic violence.

And so, we question like – and with – Job.

Žižek and Bazan (who was great at Detroit last night) are wont to conclude that God is impotent to stop it. Bell, on the other hand, concludes

We want answers, don’t we? We want explanations. We want to know why we suffer like we do. Could somebody please explain this? And there are times when the only honest, healthy, human thing to possibly do is to shout your question and shake your fist and rage against the heavens and demand an explanation. But true wisdom, the kind we find here with Job, the kind that endures, the kind that sustains a person through suffering – that kind of wisdom knows when to speak and when to be silent. Because your story is not over. The last word has not been spoken. And there may be way more going on here than any of us realize.

And then he invites:

So may you be released from always having to understand why everything happens the way that it does. May this freedom open you up to all sorts of new perspectives. And may you have the wisdom to know when to say “I spoke once, but now, I will say no more.”

Tomorrow morning at the church we’re thinking through the concept of work, in honor of Labor Day, I suppose.The primary text I’ll be addressing at the service I lead is Genesis 1.26:

Then God said, “Let us make human beings in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.”

Ultimately, we’ll work through other sections of Genesis 1, Genesis 3.17-19, John 20.13-15, Colossians 1.19-20, and Colossians 3.17.

My underlying thesis will be that the concept of work most common in our churches is derived not from Genesis 1 and 2 – that is, in God’s original purposes for creation – but from Genesis 3 – a fallen, heierarchical system.

In an idea partially dependent upon a recent sermon by Rob Bell, I’m hoping to illustrate how starting with Genesis 3 leads to our faith being only about “disembodied evacuation” – that is, the forgiveness of sin and admittance into heaven.

Starting with Genesis 1 and 2, on the other hand, allows us to not only recieve forgiveness, but to join the movement of redeeming creation. Instead of just trying to leave this place, being “beamed up,” we get to join God in the restoration of all things.Ultimately (nearly) any and every occupation is redeemable, since in it we can join the missio Dei. This reorients the role of a pastor, then. Instead of just making sure people are ready to be “beamed up,” it is about helping equip the church to join in God’s redemptive work.